


What Tangled Webs We Weave

by CatherineMorgenstern



Category: Divergent - All Media Types
Genre: (due to Eric being a leader), Amoral Characters, Blackmail, Character Death, Enemies to reluctant allies, Eric's in character aka he's an asshole, F/M, I have no intention of ever making him soft, I'm hesitant to classify this fic as a slow burn, Manipulation, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Power Imbalance, Violence, but it's not a romance, but the time frame is six days, it does take 33K to get to the smut, so you get a slow burn in terms of character development and relationship dynamic I suppose, their dynamic is about controlling and one-upping each other, unhealthy relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineMorgenstern/pseuds/CatherineMorgenstern
Summary: What do you do when you discover something you shouldn't have? Move heaven and earth to apprehend the one responsible, use it to your advantage or turn a blind eye because it's easier?“A brave man acknowledges the strength in others,” Four replies.“A brave man never surrenders.”Four and Eric stare at each other for a few seconds. I feel like I am looking at two different kinds of Dauntless - the honourable kind, and the ruthless kind.(Veronica Roth - Divergent)What kind of Dauntless do you want to be?
Relationships: Eric (Divergent)/You
Comments: 19
Kudos: 66





	1. An Act Of Cowardice (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this in April as a birthday present for my dearest of dears,[ Heeley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heeley/pseuds/Heeley), my beta who tirelessly cheered me on while writing this. It was supposed to be a one-shot and just sort of spiralled out of control. I'm so excited to finally post it!
> 
> I'm playing fast and loose with the canon timeline. The genocide against Abnegation hasn't happened yet, Eric's still working towards annihilating Divergents but Tris is already at Dauntless (and in a position of power).

* * *

**\- PART ONE -**

* * *

**[10:55 PM]**

Jumping off the train, he found his footing on Dauntless’ roof with a few leaping steps. He grinned in the darkness. Even after all these years, throwing himself out of a moving train hadn't become any less exhilarating.

Quickly, he walked towards a nondescript, black door at the other side of the rooftop. It was one of those heavy, industrial steel doors that could usually only be opened from the inside; the kind of door that was notorious for locking people out. Many a time, he'd had to read Initiates the riot act after they'd ended up locked out during the night on a dare.

What most Dauntless didn't know was that there was a way to open them. If you had clearance.

Jimmying the smooth panel that sat where the keyhole would normally be, he turned it to the side by its hinges, revealing a fingerprint sensor underneath. He pressed his index finger against it and smiled when the light changed from red to green, granting him access.

Glad to finally be home, he entered the dimly lit hallway beyond, intending to go straight to bed. But he hadn't even taken five steps when an arm wrapped tightly around his neck.

Reacting on instinct, he thrust his elbow back, connecting with his assailant's solar plexus. A low _oof_ followed by an angry growl could be heard. He used that second to spin around but before he could lay eyes on his attacker, the person had ducked under his arm only to once again grip him from behind, choking him in the process. His breathing became laboured as he fought to get enough air into his lungs while trying to kick out at the other's knees.

But whoever had jumped him was skilled and fast enough to evade any and all attempts he made to free himself. And that said quite a lot, considering he was one of the best fighters at Dauntless.

A gloved hand gripped his chin. His eyes widened in panic a split second before the inevitable happened.

The sickening sound of a neck being snapped filled the air.

Holding the lifeless body in his arms, the attacker made to change his grip in order to sling the corpse over his shoulder but the sound of approaching footsteps became noticeable. With a silent curse, he let his victim drop to the floor and hid out of sight.


	2. A Shocking Discovery

**[10:30 PM]**

Packing up the equipment, you cleaned everything with antiseptic wipes before taking the trash to the backroom. Once that was taken care of, you popped your head into the other room where Tori was finishing up on a dude a few years older than you who looked decidedly green around the gills.

Grinning, you said, “I’m done for today unless you need me for anything else?”

Tori glanced up at you with the barest hint of a smirk due to the state her customer was in. “Nah, I got it.”

“Cool. See ya tomorrow.”

Waving you off, she focused back on her work as you strolled through the quiet front room. Its walls were decorated with a myriad of tattoo designs. The indirect lighting from behind threw indistinct shadows on the floor that used to spook you a little bit when you'd first started working here. Now they just put you at ease. 

Exiting the tattoo parlour, you were met with the noise of people having a good time drifting up from the Pit. Though it was late, there were still enough Dauntless out and about to make the Compound feel lively. 

You loved Dauntless and everything it stood for.

The excitement. The demanding lifestyle. The sense of community. The belief that confronting your deepest fears and overcoming them was one of the noblest things someone could accomplish. The experience of fitting into the well-oiled machine that was Dauntless by conforming to their ideals that never seemed to stunt people's individuality. The responsibility of being the city's self-appointed protectors. The freedom of knowing how to defend yourself and becoming self-reliant as a result. The thrill of adopting a devil-may-care attitude for the sheer fun and challenge of it that expressed itself in taking risks so outrageous other Factions derogatively labelled the lot of you as adrenaline junkies, because they just couldn't relate.

The sense of belonging that came with it.

Dauntless had felt more like home to you within the first hour of being here than your former Faction ever had.

Smiling to yourself, you took the stairs down to the ground floor and, in a spur of the moment decision, decided to make a detour to the roof for a quick smoke. You crossed the Pit and vanished into the maze of dark corridors next to it. They were only sparsely illuminated by blue sconces placed in such a way that their lights never intersected, resulting in a few feet of darkness in between each light which created a slightly eerie atmosphere. Nevertheless, you enjoyed the quiet that increased the further away from the Pit you went and you let your mind wander in the process, zoning out as you navigated the by now familiar twists and turns on autopilot. Finally, you brought your attention back to what you were doing as you realised that you'd almost arrived at one of the exits. Turning left, you strolled down the hallway and came to an abrupt stop when you were close to the end. 

A pair of feet were visible while the body they belonged to stayed hidden around the next corner.

Your eyes widened. As your heart began to race, you broke into a sprint. The only thing on your mind was to assist whoever was lying on the floor. Maybe they were injured or had suffered a heart attack or something. As you turned the corner, you sucked in a sharp breath when you recognised who it was.

Max!

With a curse on your lips, you dropped to your knees next to him. His eyes were open, staring unseeingly at the ceiling and you stifled a shudder as you took note of the unnatural angle of his head which suggested that it had been snapped. Reaching out, you checked the side of his neck for a pulse. The body was still warm but you couldn't find one. You felt nauseous as you tried to keep a clear head even though you felt the anger creeping in already. 

Someone had done this to him.

Calming your breathing and racing heart, you listened for sounds of another person nearby. You were too far away for the Pit's noise to penetrate the air and you felt utterly alone as you shifted to your feet, going into high alert as you pulled the knife that you always carried from your boot.

It was as silent as a tomb and the uncharacteristic quiet served to give you goosebumps.

Obviously, you needed to tell someone that Max was dead but you didn't want to just leave him here. There was no way you'd be able to carry this much dead weight by yourself, though. Lamenting that only leaders and people assigned to patrol were issued communication devices, you exhaled heavily and then frowned when you spotted a camera up in the corner.

How had no one seen Max's body yet and raised an alarm? Wasn't the Control Room constantly watching the entire Compound?

You decided that you had to get someone now even though you were reluctant to leave Max behind. Hurrying back the way you'd come, you kept your eyes peeled for anyone of importance, intending to grab the first person with any kind of authority.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before you'd spotted Tris.

Shouting her name, you lurched forward and grabbed her arm. “You have to come with me!”

Startled blue-grey eyes met yours before recognition set in. “Why?”

Opening and closing your mouth a few times as you struggled for words, you swallowed thickly. “It's Max.”

Tris looked at your panicked expression and frowned as she waited for further explanation, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What is it?”

“He’s dead. I found his body.”

Staring at you in shock for a few seconds, she clenched her jaw. “Show me.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and lead her back the way you'd come, hurrying her along. When you made it to the spot, however, it was empty. An odd sound of confusion and protest got stuck in your throat.

Turning towards you, Tris crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “Do you think this is funny?”

“I-- “

Staring at the spot, you spun in a circle, looking around in disbelief.

“I swear--”

Had you gotten lost? Had it been a different corridor? No, you were certain this was the one. There was the camera in the corner and the access to the roof was just ahead. A shiver travelled down your spine. Someone had been here, probably watching you while they'd waited until you'd left to get rid of the evidence.

“If this is your idea of a joke--”

“It's not! Tris, I swear it's not,” you said imploringly. “He was right here…”

“You must've hallucinated then,” she said bitingly, clearly not believing that you weren't doing this on purpose. “Maybe tattooing people is more taxing on the mind then I thought.”

Ignoring the barb, you exclaimed, “We have to check the footage!”

“What?”

“There's a camera right there,” you said, pointing to it. “Someone moved his body, Tris, and the body was in direct sight of the camera.”

She eyeballed you for a moment, scanning your face intently before she sighed and gave a sharp nod. Falling into step beside her, you made your way to the Control Room. During the trip, your eyes kept darting around, cataloguing faces, searching for anyone who looked like they might be responsible. Which was ridiculous, of course, but the implication that Max's murderer must have been just around the corner from you made you feel cagey. Anyone who'd had no scruple killing a leader was a loose cannon and you couldn't quite believe that whoever it was hadn't just offed you as well.

A lump formed in your throat. Poor Max. You'd always looked up to Dauntless’ main leader who you'd known to be strict but just and unfailing in his desire to do what was best for Dauntless as a whole.

Entering the dark Control Room, you were struck by how sleepy it seemed. How normal. As if the world hadn't just spun off its axis. A dozen people were perched in front of screens that were made up of at least 16 monitors, showing all of Dauntless in black and white.

A tall, older guy with a face full of piercings, who apparently was the one in charge, approached you and Tris.

“Anything I can help you with, Tris?” he asked, sparing you a quick glance and imperceptible nod.

“I need to review surveillance for Sector 28.”

Raising a curious eyebrow, he nodded. “That's Four's sector,” he said, jutting his chin towards the far corner.

“Thank you, Ben,” she said before she let out a near silent sigh.

Trotting after her, you approached Four who had glanced over his shoulder at the mention of his name. Or maybe he'd just recognised Tris’ voice the second she'd spoken. They weren't an item anymore but they tried to keep it civil.

“Four,” she said in greeting, nodding at him.

“Tris,” he replied before he looked past her to you and cocked his head.

Four had been your trainer during Initiation and you'd always gotten along well with him so you gave a little wave that made him crack a smile.

“What do you guys need?”

“Can you show us the surveillance for Sector 28 for the last…,” she said, looking at you questioningly, “what, half hour?”

“Maybe the last hour? The body was still warm when I checked for a pulse. There should be footage of the actual murder since the camera’s right there.”

“Whoa,” Four interjected. “Body? Murder? What the hell is going on?”

“That's what I'm trying to find out, Four,” Tris snapped. “Can you just do it and save your questions for later?”

“Fine,” he replied through gritted teeth.

Okay, maybe not so amicable after all.

You shifted on your feet, feeling awkward. They kept bickering and it sounded so much like a lover's spat that you wished you didn't have to be here.

Walking around his chair to stand on his other side, you said, “I stumbled across Max's body. From what I could tell, his neck had been snapped.”

He stared at you. “Isn't Max still out at Candor?”

“That's what I thought, too. But I was on the way to the roof - for a smoke - and he was just lying there… I couldn't carry him so I left to tell someone, anyone, but when Tris and I went back, he was gone,” you explained, gripping Four's chair. “His murderer must've removed the body.”

Four was searching your face for traces of deceit before he turned to face forward. Pointing out a monitor in the second row from the bottom, he typed commands on the keyboard that caused the tape to rewind. You watched it speed backwards to 10:45 pm. Sucking in a breath, you leant in as he fast-forwarded at a much slower pace that allowed you to take in what was happening. With bated breath, you waited for something - anything - to show up on screen. But there was nothing. No body. And no you.

Frowning, you rocked back on your heels.

Tris turned to you. “You must've gotten the wrong hallway after all.”

“I didn't.”

“But obviously--”

“The surveillance has been tampered with!”

“Oh, c'mon!”

“Four, can you track my path towards that corridor? I left the tattoo parlour around half past ten, I think, and walked across the Pit towards the rooftop entrance just behind that spot.”

“Sure thing.”

Tris looked from you to Four and crossed her arms in a huff. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Proving to you that I'm not joking. Or crazy.”

The tattoo parlour and Pit were in different sectors, so Four asked the people responsible for those to rewind each tape until you showed up. That way, you could track your path right back to his sector and then you just… vanished. From one monitor to the next. One second, you'd turned into the hallway in question and then you were just gone.

“See! Someone's done something to that camera!”

“You don't know that,” Tris said.

“Then how do you explain this?”

She opened her mouth and then shrugged. “I don't know.”

Four's brows were wrinkled in confusion. “Let me just…”

Hunching over the keyboard, he typed in a series of commands too fast for you to follow. When he focused back on the monitor, he'd rewound to the point in time when you'd vanished from the other monitor and should've appeared on this one. He zoomed in and slowed it down, squinting at the screen as he looked for anything that seemed off.

You were right there with him; waiting and hoping for something to corroborate your story even though you felt that the mere fact that your taped self vanished with no explanation should suffice.

But there was none to be found.

Tris sighed loudly and made to leave.

“Wait!”

“There's nothing on there. I’m sorry but there's nothing I can do. Unless you've got hard evidence--”

“Contact Max. Please. If he's still at Candor or wherever, he can tell you that himself and I'll write this off as some delusional daydream.”

“It's evening,” she deadpanned.

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine,” she said, fishing out her communication device.

When a few heartbeats had passed without Max answering her call, your adrenaline spiked. You knew what you'd seen hadn't been a figment of your imagination. No way, no how.

Tris pursed her lips and texted him.

You held your breath.

_Ping._

“He's fine,” she said, looking up at you with pity in her eyes. “Says he's in a meeting right now. Maybe you should take tomorrow off and just relax?”

Your shoulders sagged and you let yourself sink onto the armrest of Four's chair as you kept staring at the monitor still crawling at slow motion.

“He's fine,” she reiterated.

As Tris left, you murmured, “No, he's not.”

Four patted your knee awkwardly.

“I'm gonna get a coffee. You want some?”

“Sure,” you said morosely.

After Four had gotten up, you dropped into his chair and placed your elbows on the desk, cradling your head in your hands. Your eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the surveillance footage that was creeping towards the time you'd left that hallway.

Lost in thought, you were trying to convince yourself that maybe Tris was right but then something moved in the lower left corner and you tensed. Sitting up straighter, you squinted but couldn't make out what it was and before you knew what to make of it, the thing had vanished.

“Four?”

No answer came and you turned the swivel chair around, searching for him in the dimly lit room.

“Four.”

“What?”

His voice came from the far end that must hold a kitchenette or something, hidden from view.

“Four!”

Four popped out from behind the wall with pursed lips and two mugs in his hands. “You bellowed?!”

“I saw something!”

“What?” he sighed, jutting his chin at you to get you out of his chair. After handing you the coffee and taking a seat, he said, “What now?”

“I think someone manipulated the tape--”

“Yes, I know but--”

“I think they messed up! I saw movement just now! Rewind a little, please?”

Glancing at you with undisguised annoyance, he nonetheless did as you'd asked.

"The time stamp! It jumped from 10:50 to 11 pm," you exclaimed. “There! Freeze the frame!”

“God, you're bossy,” he grumbled. “I don't remember you being this bossy during Initiation.”

“Shut up, Four.”

He grinned. The whiteness of his teeth seemed unnaturally bright as the glow from the screens reflected off his face. Slowly, the smile vanished as he manipulated the image.

“There.”

The footage was frozen and it showed the empty corridor. Except it wasn't quite empty. At the end of the hallway, you could see a shape that was slightly blurry but unmistakably male. The guy was in silhouette; most of his figure was obscured by the corner, with the right side of his face mostly turned away, the collar of his jacket was up and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes so it was impossible to make out who it might be at first glance. What you knew to be Max’s body was slumped over his shoulder; the one that was furthest from the camera. 

“Can you zoom in?”

Wordlessly, Four complied. 

“That's Eric!” you squeaked, causing Four to shush you with a cautious look over his shoulder.

“How do you figure?”

“Look at his neck!” you whispered feverishly. “You can see his tattoo.”

“You can see a sliver of _a_ neck tattoo.”

“Eric's leadership tattoo!”  
  
“We don't know that. Half of Dauntless has tats all over their bodies and fits that body type.”

You looked at him askance. “Are _you_ defending _Eric_?”

“All I'm saying is that you can't prove--”

“We can see Max's corpse!”

“We don't know that it's Max and we don't know if he's dead--”

“But--”

“How often have you seen a Dauntless carry another who's unconscious towards the infirmary because sparring got out of hand?”

“If that were the case we'd have seen them on other monitors!”

“Look, I'm with you, okay? Eric's perfectly capable of doing this for whatever nefarious reason--”

“He's been butting heads with Max on all major issues lately!”

“--but you can't prove it and running around screaming murder won't get you anywhere. Especially not if you tell everyone Eric did it without compelling evidence.”

“But, Four--”

“He's a goddamn leader!” he snapped without raising his voice. 

“I'm well aware! That's why this is so important, don't you see? If he's killed Max because Max kept being the tie breaker, outvoting Eric's decisions, that means Eric is abusing his position!”

“You can't just accuse him of something like this without actual proof. It's gonna put you in hot water, not him.”

Pursing your lips, you took another look at the image and tried putting yourself in the shoes of someone who hadn't seen what you'd seen.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

No one would look at this image and assume it was Eric.

Or Max.

Or that Max was dead.

You massaged the bridge of your nose as you admitted to yourself that you'd lost track of how many tattoos you alone had applied to people's necks. Not leadership tats, granted, but there wasn't enough of the ink visible to be completely certain it was just that. And you'd only joined Dauntless a little over a year ago.

Bloody Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit and a huge thank you goes to Fanfictionqueeen for the premise of Eric offing Max to become Dauntless’ main leader, pointing out a plot hole when I rambled about this fic's outline and being super sweet, enthusiastic and helpful in general.


	3. A Puzzling Phone Call

After a fitful sleep plagued by visions of Max's corpse in various states of decay had seen you tossing and turning all night, you'd dragged your tired arse down to the cafeteria for lunch. But your mood had only worsened since then. Somehow, despite your chosen profession, you'd always associated neck tattoos with Eric specifically but now you'd started noticing just how many members of Dauntless - of all genders and ages - had ink decorating their necks and throats. 

Could you really be sure that it had been Eric if you were confronted with this many other possibilities? After all, you hadn't seen the person's face.

If you thought about it rationally; no, you couldn't be certain. But in your gut, you just knew he was behind this. Undoubtedly, Eric was ruthless enough if it served his needs and all of Dauntless had witnessed the rift growing between them over the last months. Unless you saw Max in the flesh prancing into the Compound soon, you'd stick with your intuition. Which meant that you'd have to figure out how to prove you were right because if Eric was capable of murdering Max, you shuddered to think what else he'd be willing to sacrifice in his quest for power. Or to silence dissenters.

At lunch, you followed Eric’s entrance with your eyes. The hush that automatically fell whenever he entered a room never failed to impress you. It was like the opposite of a La Ola; the tables closest to the entrance fell silent first and then it spread ahead of his path until the entire cafeteria had stopped talking. Only when he'd sat down did the conversations resume, albeit much more subdued. It was fascinating and, admittedly, a little awe-inspiring to observe. He exuded such  _ presence _ .

You'd always thought he was the epitome of what a Dauntless should be: efficient, calculating, strong and brave. Brawn  _ and _ Brains. But now you weren't so sure anymore. Murdering someone in cold blood for no other reason than your personal gain didn't make you brave **.** It made you a coward. That's not the kind of leader you'd want for Dauntless moving forward.

As you thought about all this, you couldn't help but glare at the man in question across the room, watching him for signs of anything out of the ordinary: unease, glee, guilt. But he was his usual, indomitable self, claiming the corner of a table and preventing anyone from sitting too closely by his general unpleasant demeanour. If looks could kill, Eric would be a mass murderer.

Then your eyes travelled to his throat. The ink sure looked like what you'd seen on camera, you assured yourself stubbornly. 

When you looked back up to his face, he caught your gaze. His eyes were inscrutable - twin flames of molten silver - that seemed to dissect you from afar. It caused you to hastily drop your eyes as goosebumps erupted all over your body. No need to put yourself on his radar before you'd investigated a little more. Hopefully, he'd just assume you'd been ogling him because you had the hots for him or something. Heaven knows enough people in Dauntless did.

Not that you didn't find him attractive. Anyone with eyes could agree on that. But he was as approachable as a hissing cobra; more likely to strike than he was to be charmed. Which you guessed was his appeal to most but you preferred easy comradery in your personal relationships instead of intimidating tension that'd most likely give you indigestion.

It probably made for great sex, though.

Absentmindedly, you licked your lips as an image of a shirtless Eric came to mind. You'd never seen him shirtless but you had a vivid imagination based on those tight t-shirts he tended to wear that clung to his form. Due to your job, you didn't participate in patrols and your working hours made it tricky to hang around any of the gyms so you'd never had the pleasure of watching him in a mock fight but you couldn't deny that you very much wanted to. All that coiled strength in action while his muscles glistened with sweat as he figured out how to go in for the kill? Yes, please.

Shaking your head at yourself, you hunched over your plate and surreptitiously brought a hand to your mouth, making sure that you hadn't started to drool during your little daydream. Luckily, you hadn't made a total fool of yourself and so you quickly finished your food. You flicked your eyes up to check whether or not Eric was still staring at you and breathed a sigh of relief when you discovered that he'd already left.

Off to work then.

But first, you were gonna bite the bullet and spend a ridiculous amount of points on a personal comm device. You weren't gonna be stuck without the means to contact someone in an emergency ever again.

**~~~**

You'd had five back to back appointments that had kept you busy for most of the afternoon. Only one of them had chosen the traditional - and your preferred - method of tattooing via needle rather than machine. It took hours this way whereas the others had been done within fifteen to thirty minutes, depending on the size of the ink, but it was so much more personal and special to invest time and bear the pain of altering your skin forever, in your opinion.

“You're all done, Bree,” you said, smiling at the middle-aged woman sprawled on her front in your chair. “I'll just have to put some cream on it, tape it up and you're good to go. But first--,” you grabbed two handheld mirrors from behind you and handed one of them to her, “---why don't you have a look?”

Angling the mirror so she could see, you waited for her judgement. This wasn't the first tattoo you'd done for her so you weren't too worried but there always remained a smidge of uncertainty until the customer declared it good. The ink took up most of her upper back. Gradients of red and yellow depicted the Dauntless flame while a black dragon with a design reminiscent of glimmering coals instead of scales was curled up in its midst, looking deceptively calm as the flames licked its body. Until you focused on the menacing, ruby red eyes staring directly at you. The beast was the epitome of coiled strength, if you did say so yourself, and you were very proud of it.

“It's perfect,” she breathed. “Just like I imagined it!”

You audibly exhaled. “I'm so glad. Adjusting this to something different would've been a bitch.”

“Don't you dare,” she hissed playfully. “Tape it up and keep those needles away from my dragon.”

Laughing, you held your hands up. “Sure thing.”

After applying an anti-inflammatory cream and putting a clear wrap over the ink, you taped the edges down and handed Bree a new tub of the cream.

“There you go. You know the drill,” you said and proceeded to give her the instructions once again just to be safe. “Check back in two weeks from now to let me have a look and, of course, come in any time in between if you've got questions.”

Saluting you, she said, “Aye, aye Captain.”

You followed her to the front so you could finish the transaction, making Bree grimace as you deducted the points from her account.

“It sure is pricey to have it done the old-fashioned way.”

“Can't argue there,” you said. “But it's well worth it and I'm not just saying that because I profit from it.”

She waved you off. “I'm with you. You just can't get the same… flair if you have it done by machine.”

Smiling up at her, you nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”

You stretched to loosen cramped muscles as she left the shop.

“You done with Bree?” Tori asked as she sidled up to you, biting into an apple while handing you a cup of chamomile tea.

“Bless you,” you said before you took a sip. “Yeah. I kinda hope I'll only have to do machine tats for the rest of the day. I always forget how exhausting it is to ink everything myself.”

She made a sympathetic face at you. “Are you good to man the counter for the next couple of hours?”

You nodded. “Sure. You got an appointment?”

“Yeah.”

“Custom?”

Humming absentmindedly, she checked something on the computer.

“Who is it?”

“Eric.”

You choked on your mouthful of tea and spat it all over the counter.

“What the hell?!” Tori shrieked.

“Fuck!” you coughed. “I'm sorry!”

Grabbing a roll of paper towels, you tore off pieces and spread them on the counter to soak up the liquid before you wiped your mouth and checked whether you'd drenched yourself in tea. Aside from a few drops that barely showed on your black shirt you were fine.

“What was that?” Tori asked in a tone that was stuck somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“Nothing. Just caught me off guard is all.”

“You slept with him or something?”

“No!”

“Got the hots for him?”

“No!”

“Scared of him?”

You opened your mouth to protest once again but the sound didn't quite make it out of your throat. Thinking about it as you stared at Tori, you came to the conclusion that while you weren't afraid of him per se, you didn't really want to be in the same vicinity as him if you could help it.

“Not scared,” you muttered. “Intimidated, perhaps.”

Tori raised an eyebrow at you. “He’s not half as unpleasant as he looks.”

Worrying your bottom lip, you debated what to tell her. You trusted Tori with your life. Maybe she could help?

“Have you seen Max in the last couple of days?”

Frowning at the unexpected question, she shook her head. “I heard he was held up at Candor. What does that have to do with you being afraid--”

“I'm not afraid!”

“--  _ intimidated _ by Eric?”

Leaning closer, you lowered your voice. “When I left work last night, I decided to go to the roof for a smoke.”

“So?”

“I found Max,” you said quietly, imploring her with your eyes to believe you. “He was dead.”

Tori, who'd also leant in, reared back. “What?”

“He was just lying there,” you explained, sounding distressed. “He was still warm so I searched for a pulse but I couldn't find one. I’m no medical professional but it looked as though his neck had been snapped.”

“And what? You just left? We have to tell someone!”

“I did! I couldn't carry him so I left to find someone and I ran across Tris, dragged her back to that hallway only to find it empty.”

Tori was frowning. “That makes no sense.”

“It does if the murderer fled the scene when they heard me coming and waited until I was gone to move the body.”

“Have you looked at the surveillance--”

“Yes. And it's been tampered with. Tris and I went to Four because there was a camera looking right onto the scene but I didn't appear on tape.”

“Maybe you mixed up--”

You held up a finger to shush her and she complied.

“That's what Tris thought, too. But we tracked my path from here to that corridor and the second I round the corner, I just vanish. Tris considered that case closed after I made her contact Max, who didn't pick up his call but responded to her text, but I forced Four to slow down the tape and there's a sliver of footage of  _ someone _ ,” you said, emphasising the last word, “having a body slung over his shoulder before they left that hallway. The guy had his face turned away from the camera and wore a cap but I saw a neck tattoo peeking out over the collar. Plus, there's a time stamp jump spanning ten minutes.”

She stared at you as she digested all the information.

“And I think it's Eric. The built fits and he's got those neck tats and he's been fighting with Max nonstop…”

“Did you see piercings?” 

“What?”

“Eric's got his left eyebrow pierced.”

“No,” you said slowly, recalling what you'd seen on the tape. “It was the other side of his face.”

“Damn.”

“You believe me?”

“I know you wouldn't make up finding Max's body… but how can you be sure that it was Eric?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you replied, “I can't. Not logically, at least. It's just--”

“A gut feeling?”

“Yeah. But I don't know how to prove it and it doesn't help that half of Dauntless runs around with a tattooed neck.”

“True. Tell you what, we're gonna go see Four after work so I can have a look at that picture and we'll go from there.”

“You'll help me?”

“Duh.”

Slumping against the counter, you smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “If one of our leaders murdered another, we need to know. Do you think you can keep it together while he's here?”

You gulped. “I’ll try.”

“Try real hard. We don't need him to become suspicious.”

“Roger that.”

**~~~**

For the next ten minutes you were a nervous wreck. Tori had been tidying and disinfecting her room while you checked some paperwork. She'd given you a look that said 'be cool’ before she'd disappeared, leaving you to fend for yourself for a bit.

You could do cool, you told yourself. You could be super cool. You were Dauntless, for fuck’s sake.

Taking a sweep of the room, you couldn't find anything to occupy yourself with so you planted yourself on the comfortable leather couch to work on new designs. The familiar sounds of pencil on paper calmed you until you'd spaced out so much that you flinched when a voice sounded from behind you.

“What's that supposed to be?”

Shit. You'd recognise that voice anywhere. Taking a steadying breath, you put your game face on and turned your head to look up at him over your shoulder.

“Hi,” you said.

Eric had his arms crossed over his broad chest as he peered at your drawing. Damn it, he was tall. You had to literally crane your neck to make eye contact. The t-shirt and sleeveless vest he was wearing showed off the muscles in his arms and you couldn't help but notice them with appreciation. He was standing with his feet hips width apart and exuded such authority that a small shiver travelled through your frame. 

Cocking his head, he shifted his focus to look down his nose at you. He nodded in greeting while scrutinising you for a few endless moments. It almost felt as though he was evaluating you and you fought the urge to fidget under his oppressive gaze. There was the oddest sense of weight to his eyes that elicited a peculiar emotion low in your belly; something between excitement and fear.

Jittery with nerves, you tightened your hold on the pencil in your hand and assumed a welcoming smile. “Tori should be ready any second. Do you wanna have a seat? Can I get you anything?”

Stalking around the couch, he gracefully sank into the leather seat next to you.

“No,” he replied to your second question, sounding clipped.

“‘kay.”

Silence reigned for a few moments.

“So?” he drawled.

“So what?”

He gave you a look that clearly questioned your intelligence. “What are you drawing?”

“Nothing, really. I'm just doodling.”

“How productive.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you forced yourself to chill. You were not gonna let him goad you into anything he might interpret as disrespectful or something. After all, you had no intention of suffering a similar fate as Max should Eric decide you were too much of a nuisance.

He shifted, probably looking at you but you refused to acknowledge him.

“Ignoring me now?”

Fortunately, Tori chose that moment to fetch him. You sighed in relief when Eric left the room. It felt as though you could breathe easier now; as if he'd sucked out all the air in the few minutes he'd been here. Your shoulders relaxed as you got comfortable, pulling up your legs to sit cross-legged as you continued to draw. Before long, the doodle had turned into maze-like image made of blocks that had thick, black edges.

The minutes crept by without interruption as you kept expanding the design.

One by one, you added circles to the maze that contained the five Factions' symbols. Then you filled in some of the blanks with lines that almost looked like waves. 

“Still doodling?”

Again, he made you flinch and in the process, you'd dragged the pencil across the page, leaving a line of black from the edge of the last block all the way across the paper.

“What the hell?!” you screeched, turning around in your seat as much as possible only to be met with a very amused glint in Eric's eyes. “The hell is wrong with you?”

He raised an eyebrow at you as his lips curled ever so slightly.

Tori saying your name with warning in her voice made you flush in embarrassment. “Sorry,” you muttered. “You guys done?”

“Obviously.”

Gritting your teeth at his condescending drawl, you breathed in and out a few times before plastering a saccharine smile onto your lips. “I hope it hurt.”

Eric bared his teeth in what you assumed was supposed to be a grin but looked more like a wild animal flashing its fangs, making your heart stutter in your chest. Your subconsciousness interpreted Eric's smile as a gesture of aggression and the icy sensation of fear pouring down your spine raised goosebumps on your skin. Tori stared at you from behind him as though you'd lost your mind and maybe you had. His arrogance had always rubbed you the wrong way and your smart mouth tended to run away with you at the best of times but aggravating him was undoubtedly stupid.

“Why'd you use all Factions?” he asked, taking you off guard.

“What?”

“Why. Did. You. Add. Symbols. For. All. Five. Factions?” he said with over exaggerated slowness as if you were an imbecile.

“Because it looks good.”

“It's inappropriate.”

Forgetting who you were dealing with, your mouth dropped open in outrage. “Excuse me?”

“It's Faction Before Blood,” he said, unperturbed by your evident anger. “Your… doodle… reeks of treason.”

Your eyes bugged as your entire body tensed with rage. “You gonna go into lecture mode now?” you snapped.

Smirking coldly, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Looks like you could use it.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“The circles balance the design,” you explained disgruntledly.

“So put something else in their place.”

“Like what? Please share with me your clearly superior taste.”

Tori mimicked slashing her throat to get you to shut up but you were staring Eric down, fuelled by righteous indignation.

He shrugged. “Bullseye or Crosshairs?”

“Crosshairs?” you bit out, intending to mock him before freezing as a calculating look entered your eyes. Turning your attention back to the sketchbook, you murmured, ”Crosshairs…”

Grabbing an eraser, you went about changing Candor, Erudite, Abnegation and Amity to crosshairs, extending the scopes into the maze to connect everything while you ignored both Eric and Tori as they finished off their transaction.

You tensed when you felt Eric looming behind you. Having him so close when your back was turned raised the hairs at the nape of your neck.

“You’ll reserve that for me,” he stated as his comm began to beep.

The questionable sound that slipped from your lips hadn't even been fully vocalised yet when he was already halfway across the shop.

“Hey!” you shouted, scrambling off the couch.

You started to run after Eric as you grumbled about what an inconsiderate, arrogant prick he was. Exiting the tattoo parlour, you found yourself grateful for the current emptiness of the Pit below you, seeing as most Dauntless were either still working or getting dinner in the cafeteria. He was maybe ten feet away from you, about to take the stairs, and you opened your mouth to tell him he needed to make a bloody appointment just like everyone else but were stopped short when you heard his reply to whoever he was speaking with.

“Don’t worry, I took care of it.”

Such innocuous words. And yet they managed to send a chill down your spine. Maybe your imagination was running away with you but he must be talking about Max.

Right?

Without a second thought, you began following him down towards the Pit, making sure to keep as quiet and inconspicuous as you could possibly manage while you allowed yourself to fall back far enough that he might not instantly pick up on having a shadow. Though you were too far away to catch any more snippets, you tread lightly, grateful that you hadn't worn heels today, all the while expecting him to turn around any second in a  _ gotcha _ moment.

Eric was now walking towards the Chasm. Begrudgingly, you let him gain even more ground on you as there was no way to take the walkway spanning the underground river at the same time as him without attracting his attention. So when he vanished into the hallway ahead, you fell into a jog, hoping the sounds of the water would muffle your footsteps.

Before you could enter the corridor, you became aware of the indistinct murmur of his voice. Inching forward, you chanced a glance and, sure enough, Eric had paused just around the corner, a few feet away from you. Flattening yourself against the wall, you tilted your head to bring your ear as close to him as you could without being seen. At first it was difficult to tune out the waterfall's roar but it didn't take long to home in on Eric's smooth baritone.

“I told you, it's taken care of,” he said followed by an annoyed sigh. “The objective won't resurface.”

Your eyes widened and a feeling of dread enveloped you. Was he talking about what you thought he was talking about? Your hands were shaking ever so slightly as you fumbled to get the comm out of your back pocket and set it to record. 

“I made sure.” Eric sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth and you could practically feel irritation coming off of him in waves.

Whoever was talking to him was in charge, you'd bet your arse on that. No one in their right mind would needle Eric about something he clearly had no desire to keep talking about unless they had some kind of power over him.

“I will tell the others tonight.”

He would tell who what?

“Yes. Your favourite in particular has been asking about Max.”

You tensed. Whose favourite was asking about Max and why?

“She's like a bloodhound--”

She?

“I know-- No, I sent that message.”

Wrinkling your forehead, you tried to make sense of what you were overhearing before Eric's low chuckle made your heart stop. It sounded so malicious, your pulse began to race.

“I'll be sure to act in the deceased's best interest.”

You closed your eyes. So you'd been right. You should feel vindicated but the reality of what Eric - what one of your leaders - had done to another weighed heavily on you. This wasn't what Dauntless stood for. You needed to tell Tori and do something about Eric. Now.

Preparing to leave, you froze with your thumb on the button that would stop the recording when the next words left his mouth.

“Divergent activity is under control.”


	4. A Plan Is Formulated

Divergent? Frowning, you remained in place.

Divergent was a word out of a fairy tale as far as you were concerned. A boogeyman, according to the Factions; destructive, abnormal individuals that threatened the entire system your society had been rebuilt upon.

"An operation of that magnitude demands extensive planning and secrecy so we catch all of them unawares." 

Catching who unawares? It sounded an awful lot as if he was talking about a coup d'etat.

The rustling of clothes preceded the sound of footsteps, unfortunately your brain made the connection of those translating into Eric moving a second too late. Startled, your heart jumped into your throat as you hastily jammed the comm into your pocket. If you ran across the walkway, you'd be in his direct line of sight but there was nowhere else to go and no place to hide either. Paralysed with disbelief at your own idiocy, you felt something brush your arm. From the corner of your eye, you could see his profile but you couldn't bring yourself to turn your head and actually face him. 

“My, my, my,” he drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

It wasn't a conscious decision on your part but the seething anger beneath the forced calm activated your fight or flight instinct and, seeing as Eric was undoubtedly the bigger predator, it sent you running. One second, you'd broken into a sprint, the next a searing pain erupted from your scalp as he grabbed you by the hair and hauled you sideways, making you collide painfully with the railing spanning one side of the walkway

Staring into the Chasm's watery grave shocked you out of your stupor and caused you to lash out in an effort to free yourself. Your shorter stature meant you were balancing on your tiptoes as Eric kept you bent over but instead of letting that stun you into submission, you reached forward to anchor yourself by gripping the middle spindle and simultaneously lifted one foot onto the lowest one before you kicked your free foot backwards, intending to kick out his knee and cause serious injury.

It didn't quite play out the way you'd hoped, simply because Eric shifted, anticipating your move by reading your body language based on his fighting experience. You connected with the side of his knee, though, which elicited a slew of colourful curses but failed to incapacitate him.

You snarled and flailed as he pulled you backwards with the hand fisted in your hair, causing your back to smash into his front. A heavily muscled arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you from the railing to deprive you of your leverage. While you were effectively airborne, he let go of your hair - doubtlessly taking a fair number of strands with him - in order to grab your throat and squeeze until the lack of air became a problem. You were clawing at his arm, leaving bloody stripes, and he tightened his grip in retaliation, forcing you into submission for fear of being strangled.

“You done?”

The words were breathed against your ear in a near whisper and you involuntarily shuddered, not just from the sensation but also from the menace you could feel radiating off of him. Your blood turned to ice in your veins as the reality of the situation hit you; there was a very real possibility of not making it through this if he wouldn't let you talk. The only ace up your sleeve was the recording but if you blurted that out he'd probably throw your comm into the Chasm…

“Let go,” you croaked as you dug your nails deeper into his skin.

Unexpectedly, he did just that and since you hadn't counted on it, you shrieked as you landed in a graceless heap at his feet. Once your initial surprise had faded, you scrambled back up. Your eyes flew to his as he encircled your bicep, jerking you close and unbalancing you in the process. Reacting on instinct, you braced the palm of your free arm on his chest to stabilise yourself. His very muscular chest, you couldn't help but notice.

Light glinting off metal was the only warning you got before Eric leant in, hunching over you due to the difference in height as he pressed what you knew to be a knife against your side. “Walk.”

Sweat beaded on your forehead as the blade cut through your shirt when you failed to obey quickly enough, grazing the vulnerable skin beneath. The blood dampening your shirt made you gulp audibly and you felt like throwing up when some of it trickled down your side.

“Where to?” you asked, trying to sound flippant but the quiver in your voice gave you away.

He didn't reply, instead he tightened his grip on your arm even more, cutting off circulation in the process while he all but dragged you towards the corridor he'd just been standing in. Though you could neither feel nor see the knife any longer, you knew he kept it nearby. Hell, even if he didn't, he'd be able to kill you with his bare hands if he so chose. Your fingers went tingly first, then numb, but that paled in comparison to how light-headed you'd become from fear.

Everything about Eric was intimidating but there was a perpetual coldness to him that made you certain he had no scruples whatsoever. And his demeanour right now was positively glacial.

The next ten minutes were the worst of your entire life; not knowing what he had in store for you made your whole body quiver in fright while gruesome thoughts of all the ways he could hurt you sped through your mind.

You figured out soon enough that he was leading you towards the rooftop which only served to increase your anxiety. The few people you passed kept giving you the kind of glances that said they thought you'd been fucking Eric and were on your way to a têtê-à-têtê which couldn't be further from the truth. It was so far off that it almost made you laugh.

You'd count yourself lucky if he didn't tear you limb from limb and you were perfectly aware of how cowardly your behaviour was but you couldn't even pretend to be brave right now. Maybe that was pathetic, maybe you were a disgrace to your Faction but no one - except Four - seemed to have any idea of just how dangerous Eric really was. If there was a time to be scared, it sure as shit was right now.

He dragged you up the stairs, making you stumble as he shoved open the heavy door before he gave you a push that practically flung you onto the rooftop. You turned on your heels in an effort to keep Eric in your line of sight; having your back to him made you queasy, especially since you couldn't so much as guess what he might be planning. Though you'd bet it was something violent. 

His face gave nothing away which creeped you out. Not that that was anything new: Eric had mastered the art of being inscrutable a long time ago but you didn't appreciate being on the receiving end of that stare. Taking a deep breath, you crossed your arms over your chest, making sure to keep a good ten feet between you and him. 

You raised your chin as you attempted to look like you weren't scared shitless. Fake it 'til you make it, right?

“What do you want?”

Quirking an eyebrow, he mirrored your stance, mocking you without needing to say anything. Belatedly, you realised that you were copying his usual stance.

Figures.

Here you were, trying to act all tough and the person your subconscious decided to emulate was the guy in front of you. In any other situation it would've been a great choice: Eric always carried himself in a way that screamed control, as though nothing escaped his notice and he was ready to spring into action at any second; like he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was the biggest, baddest thing around.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't admire that under normal circumstances.

Meeting his icy gaze drained the colour from your face; there was no pity in those silvery orbs. Maybe it was just your overactive imagination but you thought he looked at you like he was envisioning your mangled corpse. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. When Eric took a step forward, you automatically retreated. It wasn't even a conscious decision, something about him activated some primal instinct deep within you that screamed at you to get away from him as quickly as possible.

He smirked. “Scared?”

“No,” you bit out.

“Liar,” he whispered.

The sound slithered across the empty rooftop, holding the promise of pain.

You shuddered as the image of Max's lifeless body surfaced in your brain. Across from you stood a sociopath and if you weren't careful, you were convinced Tori and Four would find you broken and dead at the bottom of the Compound come tomorrow.

Eric approached and you wanted to flee but you couldn't. There was no escape since the door couldn't be opened from the outside and this building didn't have access to the Initiates’ entrance. You only hoped there were cameras up here that might keep him in check. Rooted to the spot, you started to sweat as he stalked towards you. Terror suffused your entire being, making you feel weak. When he was close enough that his stomach brushed your crossed arms, you shied away from the contact by abandoning your stance, letting your arms fall to your sides where you balled your hands into fists to hide that they'd begun to shake. He took another step, deliberately invading your personal space until you had to tilt your head in order to maintain eye contact.

Being very well aware that it was a scare tactic didn't make it any less effective.

Eric stared down his nose at you with an otherwise unreadable expression and though you refused to stand down since you were out of options anyway, you were quite literally shaking in your boots.

“Who told you to spy on me,” he demanded to know in the softest voice you'd ever heard from him.

It raised every kind of alarm bell. You almost wished he'd yelled at you because the unnatural calmness he exuded right now quite surely spelt death for you.

“No one.”

His jaw clenched. “Lying is cowardly.”

“So is killing Max,” you snapped.

Every muscle in your body locked into place as your eyes widened. You fully expected Eric to lash out. But he didn't. He stilled completely while he somehow wiped his face of any and all expression in the blink of an eye, becoming even more unreadable than usual. You found yourself staring into a blank mask and it made bile rise in your throat because this couldn't be good. Only his eyes seemed to burn through to your very soul. Before you could contemplate what might happen next, he'd moved in a motion too fast for you to react to, resulting in a gun being pressed to your forehead.

Taking a leap backwards, you raised your fists even though you knew it wouldn't be of any help but you weren't armed and so your body was the only defense you had. With a few feet of distance between the two of you, you noticed that his gun was equipped with a silencer which didn't exactly inspire confidence.

“You can't kill me.”

A cruel smile appeared on his lips. “I disagree.”

“There are three people who know I suspect you of killing Max,” you stated boldly.

He cocked his head at you as he switched off the gun's safety. “That so?”

“Yes. So if I go missing after having been seen with you…”

Eric narrowed his eyes.

“... it'll only prove that I was right.”

“You have no proof I did anything.”

It was your turn to smile. “I disagree.”

He was eyeballing you, trying to determine whether or not you spoke the truth.

“What I don't know is why.”

“You’ve been following me because you want to know the reason?”

You noticed he hadn't actually admitted to anything yet. “Yes.”

The glint in his eyes made you uncomfortable. It gave you the impression you'd just fucked up.

“Another lie,” he purred. “You were trying to find proof because you've got nothing.”

Swallowing thickly, you opened your mouth to say something - anything - that would buy you more time.

The door flew open behind Eric and you could have started weeping with joy when Four burst out. His wide eyes were darting frantically between you and Eric. When Four's shoulders infinitesimally relaxed a second later, your gaze snapped back to Eric and you clenched your teeth when you noticed that he'd put away the gun. Judging by Four's reaction, he'd managed to do that before Four had seen it.

Stealthy bastard.

Eric was staring you down, looking absolutely livid and you thanked your lucky stars that Four was here because you didn't doubt Eric would've gone through with it.

“Everything alright here?” Four asked, glaring at Eric.

“Peachy,” he replied.

While Four refused to look away from his nemesis, he said your name in a questionable manner.

“I'm fine,” you said, disregarding the bone you still had to pick with Eric concerning Max's death in favour of a more immediate concern. “Uhm… guys? How do we get back inside?”

“Door,” Eric deadpanned.

“It can't be opened--”

You cut yourself off when Eric's eyes fixed on yours. They held so much rage, you were tempted to cower behind Four.

“Leaders can get in,” Four explained as Eric stalked past the two of you, ramming his shoulder into Four's hard enough to make him stumble.

You shifted uneasily from foot to foot. The tension was unbearable and it felt as though one wrong word could set either one of them off, which might end in a bloodbath. Your stomach tied itself into knots as you waited for Eric to magically open the door. 

Clearing your throat, you dared to address your leader. “How--”

“Shut up,” he said flatly while he fumbled with the door until a glowing fingerprint sensor was revealed. Your mouth dropped open. 

“I didn't know--”

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled.

You pursed your lips, glaring at the back of his head but Eric went inside without so much as another word, let alone another look, almost letting the door close on the two of you. Luckily, Four had the presence of mind to jump forward and grab the doorknob. 

“Asshole,” you murmured.

Four ushered you inside, not saying anything until Eric was out of earshot. 

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking, going anywhere with Eric?”

“It's not like he gave me a choice!” you hissed. “How did you know where we were?”

“I was at work.”

“So there are cameras on the roof!”

“No, but I saw him push you outside.”

“Good thinking,” you said before smirking at him. “Imagine if there'd been a different reason for that.”

Four made a face at you. “I'd have to gouge my eyes out.”

Laughing, you bumped his shoulder. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

He grunted in acknowledgement. “So, you found anything?”

For a second, you debated filling him in on what you'd overheard and about the recording but, inexplicably, you felt the urge to make sure your evidence - your  _ insurance _ \- was hidden safely before mentioning it to anyone.

“No. You?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat as he glanced at you sheepishly. “I figured it would be a good idea to make a copy of that bit of footage you found--”

“And?” you prodded when he didn't continue.

Taking a deep breath, he rushed out, “It's gone.”

You stopped abruptly. “What?!”

He gave a helpless shrug. “I checked this morning and it's gone.”

Anger permeated your veins so quickly and strongly that you felt your entire body flush with heat before you began to shake. Crying out in frustration, you punched the wall, barely taking note of the pain as the skin over your knuckles split open. Four saying your name with utter surprise didn't fully register either as you, for good measure, kicked the wall as well.

“That sneaky, conniving bastard!” you yelled, swinging your fist to punch the wall again.

Four grabbed you around the middle and wrestled you away from the wall before gripping your shoulders to give you a good shake. “Stop!”

Shrugging him off, you grabbed fistfuls of your hair while you breathed in and out in an effort to make the red haze clouding your vision dissipate. “Fuck!”

You had no proof of Eric being connected to Max's death. When you glanced back at Four, he looked as defeated as you felt. Eric would not get away with this, you swore to yourself as you paced back and forth. You wouldn't let him.

Even though you were sure he'd been talking about Max during that conversation you'd overheard, he hadn't admitted to anything and you hadn't been quick enough to record that part anyway. The words  _ Divergent activity _ flitted through your brain. There was something there, you could feel it in your bones. If you wanted to hold Eric accountable, you'd need some kind of leverage and finding out what he'd been referring to would surely help. The problem was that you doubted you'd be able to get concrete information about that from anyone but him and he had no reason to tell you anything which meant you needed to make him believe that you had irrefutable proof of him killing Max.

But how?

You slowed your pacing as a thought entered your mind.

“Four?”

“Yeah.”

“You said that leaders can open the steel doors from outside, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And Dauntless keeps track of everything related to security, right?”

“Yes,” he said with a question in his voice.

“So, if someone - a leader - uses the fingerprint sensor to gain access via the rooftop, you'd have some kind of record of it?”

He nodded. “Time, place and ID should be listed, yes.”

“ID? So you'd know who gained access when and where?”

“Pretty much.”

“Do you have clearance to look something like that up?”

Another nod preceded you pointedly staring at him, raising your eyebrows when he didn't seem to get it.

“What?”

“Can you check if Max entered the Compound last night?” you said slowly, watching his eyes light up once he understood what you were getting at.

“I'll come by after work.”

**~~~**

Back at the tattoo parlour, you filled Tori in on what had happened with Eric as well as Four's reveal that any and all footage had been destroyed. But you didn't mention Divergents. You were dying to know what was going on because that word alone sent a shiver of dread through you but you wanted to confront Eric first and you had a feeling that Tori - and Four - would try to dissuade you from prodding Eric any more than you were already dead set on doing.

“You know,” Tori said as she fussed over your wounds, “you don't have to do anything, right? You could just tell Tris and the other leaders. It's their job, not yours.”

Nodding, you evaded her fretting and lifted yourself onto the counter before you gave a shrug. “I want to be the one to convict him of the crime, though. His actions today only solidified my resolve. That fucker’s gonna pay.”

Tori sighed but couldn't keep a smirk off her face. “It's your funeral.”

“Isn't that what Dauntless is? Living on the edge?”

“There's a difference between being daring and suicidal.”

“Where have I heard that before,” you murmured, thinking of Four's introduction to the infamous Chasm during Initiation.

You didn't have to reply since Four entered at that moment but, privately, you admitted to yourself that Tori and Four had a point.

“So?” you asked eagerly.

“Max entered Dauntless in Sector 28 yesterday at 10:48 PM.”

“I knew it!” you shouted, hopping off the counter in favour of giving Four an exuberant hug.

“Alright, alright! Get away from me,” he grumbled, causing Tori to laugh.

“Careful, Four, your Abnegation is showing,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes.

“Did you secure the confirmation?”

“What am I? An idiot? Of course I did. After the surveillance was messed with twice, I wouldn't leave it up to chance.”

“Very good,” you replied quietly, already formulating the next course of action.

“I don't think knowing this will help, though.”

“I need a flash drive,” you stated, ignoring Four's last comment. “It can be a blank one, doesn't matter.”

“Why?” he and Tori asked simultaneously.

“To show Eric I've got a copy of that night's footage.”

“But we don't have a copy of that,” Four said, sounding as though he was talking to a toddler.

“You ever play poker, Four?”

“No…”

“It's called bluffing.”

Stunned silence met your proclamation.

“You're gonna hoodwink Eric?” he said, sounding dubious but a little awed.

“Yup.”

“Are you crazy?” Tori asked, wide-eyed.

“No” you said, cocking your head at them as a smirk formed on your lips. “I'm Dauntless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [coup d'etat = a sudden and decisive action in politics, especially one resulting in a change of government illegally or by force](https://www.dictionary.com/browse/coup-d-etat)


	5. False Information

While you readied the machine for a customer, an announcement was broadcast that called everyone to assemble in the Pit later that day. No further explanation was given but you had a feeling it would entail Eric telling your Faction about Max's demise. For the rest of your work day, you gritted your teeth so hard that you felt like your jaw might actually crack from the strain. Whenever Eric's stupid face surfaced in your mind's eye, you were seconds away from punching something again.

You were done an hour before you had to be in the Pit, though, so you used that time to do a little research concerning ways to manipulate security cameras and acquired some flash drives.

Unease made you a little jittery as you finally joined the teeming crowd in the Pit. Whenever your Faction gathered all in one place there seemed to be a palpable, restless energy present that sprung from person to person, fanning the excitement little by little into a fever pitch. The noise level was deafening and the mass of black-clad people kept in constant motion; friendly scuffles and laughter permeated the cavernous room. You loved it. This was one of your favourite aspects of life at Dauntless; that sense of unrestrained freedom and merriment was the spark that every member - Dauntlessborn and Defectors alike - seemed to have in common and it always made for a good time.

You kept towards the back of the room since you had every intention of cornering Eric afterwards and needed to be able to make a quick getaway. Letting your eyes sweep over the crowd, you looked for Tori and Four when a sudden hush descended, instantly increasing your heart rate.

You didn't even need to look up towards the platform to know who'd just stepped onto it.

Maybe it was your imagination, but you had the distinct impression that everyone automatically stood a little straighter; not quite assuming parade rest, but close enough. Swallowing thickly, you slowly flicked your eyes upwards.

Eric had his hands braced on the banister, making the muscles in his arms stand out as he lazily surveyed the room. You hid a small smirk when you noticed the red stripes left over from your altercation. Served him right. The Pit was lit brightly enough that it emphasised the starkness of the black tats against his fair skin. He made an imposing figure and you shifted in response to the sombre vibe he gave off. Flanking him were the other leaders - Tris and Logan on either side while Clay stood next to Tris - but they kept an almost imperceptible distance from Eric. All three of them appeared to be hyper-aware of him - there was a weird energy emanating from them and they kept glancing at Eric every so often; like he was some wild animal liable to lash out and devour them all at any second.

“Quiet!”

Eric's shout silenced the entire crowd in an instant. Everyone around you waited for him to talk with palpable anticipation. Not even Max had had that kind of effect on people. There was a reverence tinged with fear that Eric elicited that was unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Eric began, swallowing visibly and you narrowed your eyes at his faux unease.

Everyone else was utterly spellbound and seemed to be hanging onto his every word. Not even you could deny how charismatic he was, effortlessly commanding the Pit's attention and respect.

“We've called you here today to share a piece of information that'll change the future of our Faction.” He licked his lips and looked at his feet for a moment, conveying an air of contrition.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you frowned up at him with a fierce glare that he must've felt because when he glanced back up, he met your eyes straight on. For all his showmanship, you could see right through him. There wasn't an ounce of regret in those steely orbs. You'd even go as far as to say there was a sadistic twinkle in his eyes that made your hackles rise. The others might not pick up on it because Eric made sure not to let anyone get too close to him but your discovery of his duplicity had given you a deeper understanding of how Eric ticked that allowed you to read him a little more easily.

People were sharing questioning looks but no one had spoken yet. He'd probably flat out shoot anyone who dared.

“Max decided to leave the city.”

Stunned silence descended. Except for you. Blood was rushing through your ears as you almost had a coronary. The audacity! Was he really going to make it sound as though Max had left out of his own volition?

“His meeting at Candor took longer than anticipated and it seems like he left immediately afterwards. We received his report about that meeting in accordance with protocol and we believed him to be on his way back to Dauntless. Instead, he sent us another message earlier today in which he told us he was getting too old to be a leader and has decided to vacate the position and leave our Faction.”

You were breathing heavily, trying to stay still as murmurs broke out around you. That gutless cretin! Max deserved better than having his own Faction believe he abandoned them!

Eric allowed the crowd to get their disbelief at the news out of their system as he watched them with an imperious expression. Then his gaze settled on yours again and you bared your teeth at him. You were too far away to make out micro expressions but you were certain by the shine in his eyes that he was fighting a smirk. You raised your chin and his lips twitched minutely. The only reason you were able to tell was because you were watching him so closely.

“Each one of us will nominate a member before we vote on the two nominees best suited for the position who will then fight each other for it. The winner will join leadership. Any one of you may approach us if you have a suggestion to make. As soon as our ranks have been replenished, the leaders’ council will vote on who'll take over Max's position as Dauntless’ official spokesperson. That's all. You're dismissed..”

Glancing at your fellow Dauntless members, you watched them discuss everything they'd just learnt. There was gonna be a lot of drinking tonight, you could tell. Not that Dauntless didn't take any excuse possible to get shitfaced anyway but there was a lot of commotion as people tried to make sense of Max's… departure. You slipped away ahead of the mass exodus, hurrying along towards the stairs the leaders would have to take to get off the platform.

You watched Eric descend, deep in conversation with Logan, while Clay and Tris were behind him, the latter of whom was wearing a rather pinched expression. It made you wonder if Tris had bought the excuse; did she believe that message they'd all apparently received had actually been from Max or had she considered what you'd told her and was starting to believe you?

The man himself locked eyes with you for a second before he dismissed you by ignoring you entirely, turning his back on you even as you approached the group of leaders.

“Hey, Eric!” you yelled, waiting for him to acknowledge you. When he looked at you over his shoulder, you continued. “Don’t forget your appointment tomorrow. For that custom tat?”

He eyeballed you, squinting at your pointedly cheerful demeanour.

But before he could find a way to dismiss you once again, you added, “Also, I've got a suggestion to make. We'll talk about it then.”

You noticed Tris looking at you questionably from the corner of your eye but you kept your focus on Eric who finally gave a curt nod. 

"21:00 hours, right?” he drawled.

It would give Eric way more time to come up with some kind of plan than you were comfortable with, so you frowned and cocked your head at him in mock confusion. “No, it was three in the afternoon.”

The calculating glint in his eyes made you wary as he played along. “Oh, that's too bad. I'm busy all day tomorrow until dinner.”

Your eye twitched in anger but you forced yourself to adopt a bright smile. “I’ll reschedule you for six pm, then. That work for you?”

He kept his face neutral but you saw his shoulders tense. “Sure.”

“Awesome!” you chirped. “Tris? A word?”

Eric opened his mouth, presumably to stop you from talking to Tris, but she was already at your side. The sight of his nostrils flaring in aggravation prompted you to give him a saccharine smile. His head snapped around and he marched off in a huff.

“What are you doing?” Tris asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“You're antagonising Eric, why?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your chin. “Because of what he did.”

“You still believe that?”

“Don't you?”

She scrutinised you for a second before exhaling heavily followed by a sharp nod.

You felt yourself relax. “So you don't think that message was from Max?” you whispered.

“No,” she said, taking you by the elbow as she guided you away from the other members spilling out of the Pit. “Four told me about Max having clocked in last night.”

“Yeah, that little story Eric came up with doesn't add up, does it?”

Her jaw clenched as she shook her head. “I can't believe he-- actually, I  _ can _ believe he did that. It is Eric, after all.”

“We have to make him pay.”

“How?”

“I have a plan--”

“You're gonna get yourself killed!”

“I haven't even told you what--”

“Doesn't matter,” she hissed. “You think you can take him on? With Max gone, he's pretty much got the majority in the council and I doubt he's gonna let us nominate anyone for leadership who refuses to bow to his decisions.”

“The majority? But didn't Max overturn most of Eric's suggestions?”

“Well, yes, but--”

“So he'd have to have had two of the other leaders on his side, right? I'm assuming you didn't exactly agree with Eric on most issues?”

“I didn't. But Clay tended to side with Max as well and even when he didn't, Max's vote held more sway. The way the power dynamics are set up… Max basically had veto rights.”

“That's ludicrous! Isn't the point of having a council of five to ensure a democratic decision is made?”

Tris gave you a tired look. “Don't be naïve.”

“Well, then it's even more important that we, at the very least, demote Eric. He obviously can't be trusted.”

“You need backup for that plan of yours?”

“Nah, I got it.”

**~~~**

To say you were high-strung all throughout the next day was the understatement of the century. You were practically vibrating with nervous energy and, as a result, you'd been chain-smoking ever since you'd gotten out of bed. The thought of having to face Eric and playing it cool in order for your plan to work tied your stomach into knots.

In your mind, you were reiterating what you had to do over and over again as if there was any chance you might forget. It was practically carved into your brain but that didn't make the prospect of trying to dupe Eric any less daunting.

Tori kept giving you worried looks which you ignored as best as you could. You felt a little guilty for not telling her - or Four and Tris - about Eric mentioning Divergents. Of course, you didn't know what exactly was going on either; you'd only heard that word once or twice in your life. When you'd been a child, your mum had told you a fairy tale in which Divergents were the bad guys and when you'd asked her about that term she'd merely told you that their very existence threatened the world you lived in. Later, you'd looked it up and could find virtually no information about Divergents, whether that was due to there not having been any record of Divergents in years or because it was classified, you weren't sure. All you knew was that they suffered from a genetic abnormality that caused them to be unstable and dangerous. You were dying to know more and it made you determined to squeeze the truth out of Eric.

Shaking your head at yourself and your apparent death wish, you whispered, “Curiosity killed the cat… let's hope satisfaction will bring it back.”

“You talking to yourself now?” Tori asked with raised eyebrows.

“Shut up.”

“Are you sure you don't want me to stick around while you're talking to Eric?”

“Tori,” you sighed. “For the last time, I don't need a babysitter. In fact, it might be detrimental to my plan.”

“Oh, yes… the infamous plan you won't tell anyone anything about. That makes me feel so much better!”

“It'll be difficult enough to get him to… acquiesce... to my... suggestions. If he knows you're here, he'll be even more guarded!”

“So I'll hide!” she exclaimed. “Be reasonable! You need backup.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “Eric isn't stupid. I guarantee you that his first course of action will be a sweep--”

She opened her mouth but you rushed ahead to cut her off.

“-- and I'll have backup.”

“Who?” she asked, crossing her arms in a huff at your obstinate behaviour. “Who will be your backup, huh?”

Cocking your head at her, you gave her a wry look. "Don't pretend you and Four won't be waiting in the Pit so you can storm in here at the first sign of trouble.”

Tori pursed her lips. “Well, someone's gotta look after you. You're clearly not quite right in the head.”

Laughing, you nodded. “You got that right. Just don't jump the gun. If you interrupt us too early, all my planning will have been for naught.”

“So you'd rather we hesitate and have him actually hurt you?” she asked, pointedly staring at the bruises that had blossomed on your neck, courtesy of Eric.

Hesitating, you let that scenario resonate in your brain. You'd seen what he'd done to Max and Max had been a seasoned soldier who'd been able to hold his own in the ring whereas you only knew the basics. Of course, you could fire a gun and throw a knife but hand-to-hand combat? Against Eric of all people? You wouldn't stand a chance. But you had to talk to him one on one and you knew getting information out of him would be like pulling teeth - even with your fabricated blackmail material - so you really couldn't take the chance of them bursting in on you in the middle of the negotiation.

Exhaling slowly to ease your nerves, you said, “That's exactly what I'm asking you to do.”

Tori stared at you as if you'd lost your mind. And maybe you had. You promised yourself to get in the gym and put in some serious time should you live to see tomorrow. It had been negligent to let it slide in the first place, you admitted to yourself.

You readied the tattoo design and made sure everything else was in order while you could see Tori tidying up the front room for the umpteenth time just so she had something to do and could stall a little while longer. Glancing at the clock, you felt a spike of nerves that made your hands shake but you forced yourself to calm down by taking a few deep breaths.

You could do this.

“Time to call it a day, Tori,” you said blithely as you checked if the flash drive was still safely hanging from the chain around your neck that was hidden beneath your shirt before you joined her up front.

A disapproving look was all you got before she marched towards the door.

“Be careful for fuck's sake,” she threw over her shoulder as she flipped the sign from  _ Open _ to  _ Closed _ before she let the door slam shut behind her.

Absolute silence unfolded in the sparsely illuminated tattoo parlour but instead of being soothed by the familiar surroundings, an ominous feeling crept up your spine. It was the calm before the storm, you could tell. But you'd made sure you’d have every advantage possible: you had the flash drive, you were going to tattoo him so there was a certain amount of pain you'd be inflicting on him which would - hopefully - put him in a more submissive position and he would be coming here which meant you got home turf advantage.

When dealing with Eric it was important to get a leg up any way you could, especially since it was you who needed information from him. Though you were determined to not make that obvious.

Your heart jumped into your throat as the door opened and Eric came into view. The second, he'd entered the room, he locked eyes with you and stalked towards you in a pointedly slow manner; the way a seasoned hunter might approach a skittish deer. Either he was posturing to appear more threatening or your bone-deep apprehension was playing a trick on your senses because he seemed positively giant.

Time stilled. 

It felt as though it took hours for him to cross the room, all the while his attention didn't waver once. In response to his intense scrutiny, you raised your chin defiantly. You didn't even bother with the pretense of a smile; any and all pleasantries you usually pulled out for customers were discarded as you stared him down.

“Eric.”

He cocked his head in amusement at your frosty demeanour and mockingly imitated your tone when he said your name in the same fashion. A satisfied glint appeared in his silver eyes when he stopped uncomfortably close to you with his gaze fixed on your throat. You found yourself taken off guard when he lifted his hand to touch the darkening bruises he'd gifted you with. A twinge of pain shot through you when he applied pressure and you took a step back while swatting his hand away. Gritting your teeth at the fact that he'd made you retreat, you turned on your heel and marched into your designated work room.

“C'mon,” you ordered, anger lacing your voice. “We don't have all night.”

“I do.”

“Oh? I assumed you must be terribly busy, considering you're down a man…”

There was a short silence. You didn't dare look back at him for fear of what you'd see in his face.

“Good thing I've still got three others to help,” he said flatly.

“Yes,” you drawled as you came to stand beside the chair. “Lucky you.”

“Indeed.”

“Sit.”

His eyes flashed at your sharp command. Crowding closer, he stared down his nose at you. “Ask nicely.”

You had to exert tremendous control over your facial expressions to not snarl at his arrogance.

“Please, Eric,” you said in a monotonous voice, “have a seat.”

You were tempted to add  _ dear _ just to see how he'd react but he might rip your head off for that.

“In a second.”

As you'd predicted, he took in the room you were in, cataloguing if there were any places someone could be hiding, before he turned around and presumably did the same to Tori's work room and storage.

Once he was assured there were no nasty surprises waiting for him, he sank into the chair in a fluid motion. The fact that you were peering down at him now should've made you feel in control but he looked like a king sitting on a throne, holding court, making you feel inferior. Speechless, you marvelled at how he'd somehow taken over right from the start and you hadn't even begun negotiating with him yet.

Taking a deep breath, you snatched the drawing from the counter behind you and handed it to him.

“This is it. Would you like me to adjust anything?”

You had trouble to keep yourself from fidgeting as he examined your design, convinced he'd make you jump through hoops in order to ridicule your drawing skills.

“Yes.”

Smiling blandly at him, you refused to let him rile you up. “Care to be more specific?”

“I want one of the crosshairs changed into Dauntless flames.”

“Sure, any preference as to which one?” He seemed to ponder that for a minute and when he didn't provide an answer, you asked, “Where do you want the tat?”

Looking up at you from under his lashes, he eyeballed you, trying to determine whether it was a serious question or if you were setting up some kind of trap.

“Forearms.”

“Both?”

He nodded.

Glancing at the drawing, you suggested, “Maybe if we place it so that one circle ends up in the middle?” You pointed to the corresponding place on your own arm. “Here? And make that one into Dauntless flames?”

“Sure.”

You wanted to snap at him to show some enthusiasm but knew it would only serve to let him know he was getting under your skin.

“Great,” you said.

After fitting the design onto his arm to see which circle needed to be changed, you erased the crosshairs and put flames in its stead before you did the outline.

“Alright, I'll have to shave you,” you said blithely as you sat down in front of him, already reaching for a razor.

When you neared his arm with blade in hand, he grabbed your wrist, applying a painful amount of pressure. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion, making you huff irritably.

“I'm not gonna slit your throat, Eric.”

But he didn't let go and you suppressed a wince when he tightened his hold, grinding the fragile bones in your wrist against each other.

“Would you like to do it yourself?”

Abruptly, he released you and you raised a questioning eyebrow at him to which he gave a curt nod. Refraining from rolling your eyes at his antics, you wet his forearm with a towel and went to work but when you switched to his other arm, you stopped short.

Involuntarily, a slow, gleeful grin appeared on your lips.

Smiling sweetly at him, you said, “Oh, bummer. Those scratches will have to heal first. Unfortunate coincidence, that. You'll have to make another appointment, I'm afraid.”

Eric was wearing his customary blank face but the gleam in his darkening eyes was murderous. You strongly suspected it was due to your impertinence rather than the minor injury.

If looks could kill…

After carefully aligning the outline and making sure all of it transferred to his skin, you adjusted your chair one more time to make sure you would be comfortable.

“Ready?”

When he didn't answer, you flicked your eyes up at him to find him staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“Eric? You ready?” you repeated slowly. ”Or do you need more time?”

“For what?”

“I don't know, to mentally prepare yourself for the pain or--”

“I'll survive.”

Your nostrils flared. God, he was annoying. If only there was a way to increase the amount of pain that came with using a tattoo gun for particularly bothersome customers. But, for all you knew, Eric might be into that, though you hazarded a guess that he enjoyed inflicting pain more than receiving it.

“Alrighty!” you chirped before focusing on your work as you put the needle to his skin.


	6. Baiting The Beast

Minutes crept by and you were so lost in the process of bringing your design to life on his skin that you forgot Eric was even there; an endless loop of dipping the needle into the ink, tracing the shapes and wiping away blood that welled up. Eric held perfectly still, hadn't so much as winced, and though his silence and monosyllabic stoicism usually served to aggravate you, you had to admit that he was quite pleasant to work on since he didn't require you to make mindless chit chat or interfered with your concentration by talking your ear off.

It was almost serene.

Unbeknownst to you, you'd made a face at that thought.

“What?”

“Huh?”

He sighed and though you didn't glance up, you could feel the patronising look he levelled you with. How did he manage to convey so much irritation with such a small sound?

“Why did you look as if someone just stole your candy?”

“I didn't--”

“Yes, you did.”

“Fine.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see that he looked skyward which you guessed was Eric's version of exasperation.

“So?”

“So what?”

The hand of the arm you weren't tattooing balled into a fist, making you very pleased with yourself; that's right, Eric, you're not the only one who can drive people insane by giving short, unhelpful answers.

“Why the face?”

His voice sounded a little strained and you were pretty sure he was pressing the words out while his jaw was clenched.

“Just a stray thought.”

For the first time since you'd started inking, the silence that fell between you wasn't peaceful but rather tense. You kept working seemingly unaffected but the fine hairs at the nape of your neck prickled.

In for a penny…

“Did you know,” you began conversationally, “that those nifty little fingerprint sensors on the roof are clocked into Dauntless’ security system and thus the Control Room?”

Now he did tense. The only reason you were aware of it was because you felt the muscles in his forearm flex and you wisely lifted the tattoo gun, tutting at him in mocking reprimand.

“Do hold still, dear.”

The chair he was sitting in creaked as he leant forward and you finally lifted your gaze to lock eyes with him. His face was inches from yours and there was a noticeable snarl playing across his lips which sent a sliver of fear through your system.

Careful now, you told yourself. Best tread lightly.

“And?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes,” he purred in a deathly whisper that made your mouth go dry for more reasons than one.

“Everything's recorded. Time, place...” you said quietly, immensely proud of the fact that your voice didn't quiver.

“Do go on,” he coaxed and your stomach fluttered with nerves.

“ID,” you finished, maintaining eye contact with him. It wouldn't do to show fear now. “I checked the records.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes. I know that Max came home two nights ago, contrary to what you told our Faction. And I've got proof.”

He leant back, getting comfortable again. “Finish the tattoo.”

“What?” you squeaked, taken off guard by his lack of response and sudden change in topic.

Raising a pierced eyebrow at you, he motioned towards the tattoo gun in your hand.

You didn't know what to do or how to react. What was he playing at? You'd just told him you knew that he was lying to all of Dauntless - and could back up your claim - and yet it seemed to not affect him at all.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” you asked indignantly.

“I’m not deaf.”

Blinking at him owlishly, you tried to wrap your mind around this turn of events. You needed to adapt, asap. Confused, you continued tattooing him. The following silence felt almost bloated; filled with the ghost of the conversation you'd planned on having. You couldn't guess what he had in mind but if there was one thing you knew it was that Eric was a master strategist and there had to be a method to his madness.

An ominous feeling took root in your chest before it slowly filled your entire body as you finished his tat. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop while you bandaged his forearm and the uncertainty made you feel utterly helpless.

Eric let you stew until you were done.

“Whatever proof you have is inconsequential.” Your hands shook ever so slightly as you threw the needle away. “Unless you can procure Max's corpse, no one will give a shit.”

Rage bubbled to the surface as you understood all at once what he was doing. That sneaky son-of-a-bitch had manoeuvred himself into being in charge of the conversation. Whereas you'd been the one to bring up the topic, he'd made sure to unbalance you enough to be the one shaping the course of it now. It took a few deep breaths to convince yourself not to do something impulsive, like clock him in the face with the tattoo gun.

“Au contraire,” you snapped defensively. “I've got proof and made copies of that proof. I have the means to show it to the other leaders or this entire Faction any time I damn well please and you can't do a damn thing about that.”

He chuckled and you were sure your eye twitched in response. The bastard had the nerve to laugh at you! This was spiralling out of control way too fast. Drastic measures might be needed soon but you were determined to stay as calm as possible because you knew going up against Eric one-on-one was a terrible idea, no matter how tempting.

Straightening in your chair, you set the tattoo gun aside and raised your chin, giving him the haughtiest look you could muster.

“Two nights ago, you made sure the surveillance in that corridor was put on a loop so you could dispose of Max, didn't you?”

He didn't verbally confirm or deny anything but the cruel smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth was all you needed to know.

“You might want to have a talk with whoever you enlisted to do that because they did a sloppy job.”

Eric's eyes went cold. “That so?”

“Yes,” you replied with steel in your voice before you invaded his personal space by putting your hands on the armrests of his chair, leaning forward. “We caught you, wearing a baseball cap, Max slung over your shoulder, right when you turned the corner.”

He didn't say anything but a muscle visibly jumped in his cheek as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his jaw. You didn't need to be an expert to know that Eric was seconds away from strangling you but you continued nonetheless.

Go big or go home, right?

“I guess I screwed up your timetable that night, huh? The loop would have been active for long enough if you could've taken Max with you right after you snapped his neck and no one would've been the wiser. But then you had to hide when I came your way. Tell me, Eric, did you at least give him a fair fight? Or did you jump him from behind like a coward?”

In his eyes, you witnessed the war playing out in his mind: snuff out your life to be done with you and risk someone else having condemning evidence or begrudgingly hearing you out, which you were certain he'd consider to be a defeat. He made a movement so miniscule you sensed it more than saw it and you hurriedly barrelled ahead to keep him from hurting you.

Bringing your hand to your neck, you snatched the necklace that had the flash drive hanging from it out of your shirt, dangling it in front of Eric who got a decidedly unfriendly look in his eyes as he put two and two together… or rather what you wanted -  _ needed _ \- him to believe were two and two.

“I isolated the image so it's as crisp as possible,” you lied, “and copied it onto three more flash drives so even if you destroy this one and get rid of me, it won't help you. My disappearance will be a sign for the others to come forward.”

Eric remained silent for a minute. “Bullshit,” he breathed with a curl of his lip.

You were starting to sweat. Adrenaline coursing through your veins made you jittery and the fact that your plan hinged on him taking the bait added a queasy feeling that soon bordered on hysteria when your brain conjured the mental image of Eric's reaction to you vomiting in his lap from sheer nerves.

“You really wanna take that gamble?” you taunted, playing it as cool as you could while you prayed he'd believe you.

His nostrils flared in anger and you could practically see him evaluating the situation, trying to come up with a better alternative and finding none. Hopefully.

“What do you want?” he asked flatly.

“For starters? Answers.”

“Answers?” he mocked.

You ignored his derision. “Why did you kill Max?”

“You still on about that, princess?”

“Yes, I'm still on about that,” you barked, flustered that he'd used a pet name and how full of contempt he'd made that one word sound.

“Why do you care?”

“He's Dauntless--”

“Was.”

You felt your knees starting to shake. How the fuck could he be so blasé about this?

“He  _ is _ one of us, always will be, and you just decided to kill him in cold blood? Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters!”

Your outburst made him smirk as he cocked his head at you. “Were you fucking him?”

“What?!” you screeched, recoiling before you put your hands on your hips in outrage.

Eric reclined in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he placed his arms on the armrests: the epitome of ease.

“It explains why you won't let this go.”

“Because the fact that one of our leaders was murdered for no apparent reason isn't enough to give me sleepless nights?”

He shrugged nonchalantly and you were close to losing it.

“Was Max Divergent?”

That made him freeze. Again, the action was so miniscule that you only noticed it because you were so close to him.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he sneered, “You were eavesdropping for longer than I thought. It's impolite to butt into other people's business.”

“It’s impolite to kill someone!”

Eric rolled his eyes at you. Actually  _ rolled _ his fucking eyes at you! As if you were quarrelling about who ate the last piece of chocolate cake rather than him having committed premeditated murder.

“You sound like a broken record.”

If humans could breathe fire, you would've have set him ablaze already.

“He was, wasn't he?”

“None of your business.”

“Tell me or--”

“You won't do shit,” he said quietly but you found yourself listening intently nonetheless - or maybe precisely because of it since Eric had a way of commanding everyone's attention with the very tone he was using now. “If you act on your little threat, there won't be a reason for me to keep you alive and you won't get whatever you're really after.”

“I'm not after--”

“Shut up,” he growled. “You might be upset about Max but that's not all--”

“Yes it is--”

“Do not lie to me.”

His voice always sounded unemotional but now it held a dullness that made you physically shiver. Every hair on your body raised in response to it and the nauseousness swirling in your belly increased tenfold. You felt as though someone had just walked over your grave.

“Get to the point so we can be done. I'm getting bored.”

You had a feeling that wouldn't bode well for you and since he was apparently disinclined to believe you had noble intentions, you racked your brain for what else you could ask him and came up blank.

“Why are you concerned about Divergent activity anyway?” you asked to buy yourself more time.

“None of your fucking business.”

“So something important is going on--”

“Way above your security clearance, princess.”

“I figured, what with you talking about planning a surprise attack and all,” you said amicably, watching him shift minutely. “An attack on whom, though? Divergents? That would mean there'd have to be a significant amount of them among us.”

Unsurprisingly, Eric seemed disinclined to answer, so you continued to muse aloud.

“And since we're on that topic, who are you taking orders from? They've gotta be important or you wouldn't heel the way you did like a well-trained dog.”

“You best stop right there,” he murmured softly and your skin prickled from that low timbre alone, though - if you were honest with yourself - it wasn't just due to being scared.

The danger he posed excited you.

“At least tell me if Max had to die because he was Divergent,” you demanded to know even as you shuddered.

Childhood fears never truly went away, did they?

Eric noticed your reaction and interest flared in his eyes but he made no comment on it.

“No.”

“No, you won't tell me or, no, he wasn't Divergent?”

“Would it make you sleep better at night to know he'd been an… anomaly?”

His hesitation before the last word was telling. It implied that he'd been on the verge of using a far less polite term.

“Yes.”

Smirking, he purred, “No, he was not Divergent.”

Then why the fuck had he killed him?

“That makes no sense! Unless…”

“Unless?”

Eric blinked at you slowly with a barely there smirk playing around the corner of his lips, reminding you of the cat that ate the canary. He looked so pleased with himself and that brought your first assumption from two days ago back to the surface: Had Eric killed Max simply to silence him for his own gain and nothing else? But what if it went even further than that where Dauntless was concerned?

Swallowing thickly, you voiced what had just occurred to you, “You want to take over Dauntless, don't you? Completely, I mean?”

Though he didn't reply verbally, the small smirk turned into something a little sharper which told you all you needed to know.

“You're never gonna get the majority vote. Tris and Clay have always opposed you in the past.”

“You need to get better informants, princess.”

Giving him a scathing look for using that name yet again, you remembered something Tris had said about majority among the leaders.

If Eric became the public face of Dauntless, he'd have veto rights on any and all decisions. You had a strong feeling that before long Dauntless would indeed become a one-man-show, even if only internally, and you couldn't allow that to happen. His insinuation that Clay was on his side as well - you didn't believe Tris would ever side with Eric of her own volition, not in a million years - meant he was guaranteed to get the job. Tris alone couldn't do shit. But… but they had to nominate a new leader first and since none of them were allowed to vote for themselves, all you needed was for the new leader to vote for anyone  _ but _ Eric to at least make it inconclusive.

Your mouth went dry.

Before you could rethink your next words, you blurted out, “I want you to nominate me for the leadership position.”

For an instant, Eric seemed surprised by your demand and then he threw his head back and laughed, leaving you speechless. You couldn't recall ever having witnessed an actual laugh coming from him. After a few seconds, you kicked his chair to regain his attention and make him stop because you had the uncanny feeling that his mirth came at your expense. His gaze snapped back to yours so quickly that you involuntarily scooted your chair back a bit. Any and all traces of laughter were gone in the span of a second as if it had never happened in the first place. It was creepy as hell.

“You want to be leader?” he asked with something akin to amusement in the depths of his voice. “At least it explains why you'd try to blackmail me.”

“Our leaders’ council is in desperate need of another woman.”

“And you really think you're the right one for the job?”

You didn't appreciate his insinuation. He seemed to think you incapable of taking charge which was not true at all; you merely had no desire to be responsible when other people chomped at the bits to do the job but things were dire enough that you'd feel uneasy about trusting anyone else to do the right thing, especially when it meant attempting to keep Eric in check. That was a tall order, after all.

“Well, at least I'm not a disgrace to Dauntless' ideals, unlike some," you spat.

The last word had barely left your lips when he had you by the throat, flying out of his chair in an explosion of movement that you had no chance of stopping. He shoved you across the small room so that your swivel chair banged against the counter behind you seconds before your back painfully collided with the edge, hitting you right between the shoulder blades and rattling your entire body before he lifted you onto your feet. Eric's grip slid upwards so that his knuckles touched your jaw as he bent you backwards until the back of your head lay on the counter.

Though your brain hadn't been able to keep up with what was happening, you instinctively brought your knee up, intending to hit him where it hurt and take care of his family planning for him. To divert your attack, he struck the inside of your knee, opening your legs in the process. It was enough for him to step between them with a sharp kick to your ankle, eliminating the potential for any more knees aimed at his groin but your hands were still free.

While you'd automatically wrapped them around his wrist in an effort to get him to let go of your neck, you had enough presence of mind to aim a punch at his throat, intending to smash his Adam's apple because he was choking you hard enough to make dark spots appear in your vision as your body bowed from lack of oxygen. You were surprised when he caught your fist before you'd even touched him but while he had both hands full, you uncurled your other hand from his arm and blindly elbowed him as hard as you possibly could - which was difficult, considering the limited range you had to work with and the fact that your neck was still overextended - where you thought his solar plexus must be.

Luckily, it was enough to make him loosen his grip momentarily as he grunted in surprise. You knew this might be your only chance so you did two things in rapid succession: first, you grabbed his arm and squeezed the raw tattoo hidden by only a thin bandage as hard as you could and then used his distraction to cross your fists underneath his extended arm before thrusting up against his wrist to break his hold. Finally, you could straighten your upper body and quickly straightened up even though he hadn't really moved an inch.

Your vision swam from the suddenness of getting vertical and then a sharp flare of arousal hit you when you found yourself pressed against his muscled front.

Not wasting any time on your ill-timed attraction, you used him as an anchor and hooked the tip of your shoe behind the chair to spin it to the side just so he wouldn't have an opportunity to force you back into it while he continued to choke the living daylights out of you. Plus, you'd need all the space you could get to hold off Eric. In an effort to capitalise on the newfound range, you promptly threw a punch at him, aiming for his nose but clocking him squarely in the jaw because he'd reacted quickly enough to turn his face. While his head snapped to the side and he instinctively grabbed the offending fist, you brought your knee up, reaching for the knife you kept hidden in your boot with your free hand. You'd barely gotten a hold of the hilt when Eric grabbed your wrist and sharply twisted. Crying out in pain and frustration as the weapon flew out of your hand, you cursed as you heard it clatter to the floor, skidding out of reach.

Your fist sailed towards his throat but Eric intercepted you once again and with both of your arms incapacitated, he bodily swung you around, bending you over the counter with such force that the side of your face got smashed against the surface. Thankfully, you had the good sense to turn your head at the last second or he'd have broken your nose though your brain was left ringing from the impact. Your stomach had hit the edge hard enough that the air was forced from your lungs, preventing you from stringing coherent thoughts together let alone come up with anything that would get you out of this predicament .

Your arms were twisted behind you - resting at the small of your back - and Eric applied pressure as he leant in, making you jerk in pain. Gasping for air once your lungs felt like they worked again, you tried to calm your racing heart. The exertion coupled with the rush of adrenaline had your entire body thrumming with energy.

And a whole lot of arousal.

Eric manhandling you shouldn't have been a turn on but damn… you really couldn't control what fired you up.

A pair of ominous cracks filled the air, followed by a contented sigh. You weren't sure whether to feel insulted or to start laughing as you realised that it was Eric relaxing his neck and shoulder muscles but you definitely leant towards the former. He probably didn't even feel winded. The jerk.

“That was pathetic," he purred against your ear, making something low in your belly clench with want despite the menace rolling off of him, "but that little sparring session was just what I needed."

“Little sparring?” you echoed breathlessly with all the indignation you could muster.

Humming, he pushed his hips against your arse and drawled, “Nothing like putting someone in their place to get the blood pumping.”

You could literally feel your face heat up as your stomach dipped in response.


	7. Desire And Fear Are Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Heat rushed through your veins as Eric transferred your wrists to one hand - still keeping them crossed behind your back - before he trailed his now free hand firmly up your spine. From anyone else this might've come off as a sweet gesture but with him it made you feel as though you were being appraised; like you were a prized pet he considered buying. Nonetheless, the action sent sparks through your nervous system and you couldn't help but arch your back in response as liquid heat pooled between your thighs. A pleasurable shiver shook you when he reached the nape of your neck and applied pressure to keep you in position. It made your heart race even as you chided yourself for not objecting to his assertiveness and for being attracted to him at all, knowing what kind of person he was.

But he was pushing all your buttons and you couldn't control what flipped your switch.

It took tremendous effort on your part to force your mind out of the gutter by reminding yourself that he hadn't exactly agreed to your terms yet and in order to do that you felt like a more dignified position would be advisable. Attempting to get up proved futile, however. Eric didn't budge at all and fuck it if that didn't turn you on even more.

"Let. Go."

"No."

His bored drawl was so insufferably arrogant that you gritted your teeth in response. 

"Eric," you growled.

He chuckled and his apparent amusement at your helplessness only served to piss you off. 

"What, too weak to free yourself? If you'd spent a little more time training instead of doodling, you'd know how to get out of this."

That might be true but you were sure you still wouldn't stand a chance, considering he was built like a goddamn brick house. You couldn't think of any manoeuvre that would loosen his grip. Annoyed at yourself and him, you huffed indignantly before deciding that you'd have to swallow your pride and negotiate with him despite the vulnerable position he had you in.

"So, we got a deal or what?"

"A deal?" he parroted mockingly. "You honestly think you're in any position to make a deal?"

"Have you gone senile, old man?" you snapped. "Unless you want all of Dauntless to find out what really happened to Max, you better play ball."

Though he wasn't within your sight, you could practically feel the anger emanating off of him. It took every ounce of self control you possessed to not give away how frightened you were. Eric always seemed so poised but also managed to project an air of unpredictability that made dealing with him exceedingly uncomfortable because you were never sure how he'd react. And yet, that exact combination was what attracted you to him. Only Eric inspired this confusing mix of fear and desire in you and you hated him for it; you despised feeling out of control of your own body.

Abruptly, he let go of you and stepped back.

"You want to be leader," he stated as you whirled around, coming face to face with him.

Raising your chin as you closed the distance once more so that your front brushed his, you said, "Yes."

"Impossible," he countered, prompting you to open your mouth in outrage. "You're not leader material."

"The fuck I'm not!"

Eric tilted his head as he gave you a slow once over that made you blush and bristle simultaneously. Your heart was hammering in your chest from how riled up you were by his presumptuous proclamation and it only got worse when he started to circle you. 

"You're too weak and judging by your poor fighting technique, you'd have no chance of winning anyway--"

Embarrassment made you swallow thickly even as you tried to seem unaffected. There was nothing you wanted more than to deny his assessment but you knew he wasn't entirely wrong.

"I'll nominate you but whether or not you get chosen as the new leader isn't part of the deal."

"Not good enough."

He stopped once he was standing in front of you once more, scowling down his nose at you in response to your refusal.

"You said earlier that you had the others in your pocket. Except for Tris. Shouldn't be too hard for you to make them trust your judgement."

"I said no such thing."

"Not outright but it was very much implied, so make it happen."

"I'll nominate you--"

"That's not--"

"I will nominate you," he growled, "but since you'll have to win a fight against whoever else gets chosen, I cannot control whether or not you become leader."

"Bullshit!"

"Excuse me?" he purred in a deceptively soft voice.

"Make sure the vote is unanimous and there won't have to be a fight."

He sighed in annoyance. "That's not how it works--"

"But--"

"Shut up! I'm trying to explain the process since you obviously didn't listen when I announced it in the Pit."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared at him.

"We're gonna decide on who the two nominees are that we think are the best suited for the job and I will make sure you're among them but, afterwards, you'll have to fight the other candidate and win to join leadership."

You gaped at him. This was the first time since you'd become Dauntless that a new leader would be chosen and you'd just assumed that should the leaders be able to agree on one candidate there wouldn't have to be a fight. You'd been certain that it would be easy for Eric to push you through.

He smirked knowingly at you. "Maybe you should rethink your little plan."

Pursing your lips in response, you scrunched up your nose and said as confidently as you could manage, "Fine. I'll put in some work, then."

"You're not fit to lead a Faction of warriors."

"I'll figure it out," you snapped. "You could be my personal trainer."

"No."

"Unless you make sure I'm chosen, we don't have a deal."

"I already told you it's not my choice," he snarled. "Or are you too stupid to grasp the concept of having to prove yourself via close combat?"

"Fine," you bit out. "I'll destroy the evidence right in front of your eyes - hell, you can do it yourself if you want to -  _ if _ you do absolutely everything in your power to help me. And that includes instructing me in hand-to-hand combat."

A snarl twisted his mouth and you wanted to retreat but stubbornly held your ground as you continued to maintain eye contact. It was oddly intimate to be this close to him while staring into his glacial eyes for a prolonged period of time. Your pulse was racing and you weren't sure whether you wanted to turn tail and hide or jump his bones; anything to break this unbearable tension.

"You really wanna do this?" he murmured. "You saw what happened to the last person who stood in my way."

The blood in your veins turned to ice as the implication sank in. Had he just admitted that Max had to die just because he'd been an inconvenience to Eric? You couldn't quite wrap your mind around that level of callousness. How could he have so little regard for life? And who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you if you went through with your plan of doing everything in your power to oppose him in the leaders' council? But someone had to stop him and you doubted anyone else had the means or the mental fortitude to take on Eric.

"Do you agree to the terms or not?" you reiterated, raising your chin defiantly.

A few seconds passed in which he just stared at you. It was impossible to guess what was going on in his mind and you half expected him to get violent again which was why you flinched when he moved. Your obvious fear brought a satisfied smirk to his face as he herded you back against the counter. Despite your desire to remain composed, you were sure your eyes had widened noticeably from the adrenaline rushing through your veins as Eric put his hands onto the surface next to your hips, caging you in.

"Easy, princess," he purred as he leant in close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting across your lips.

You automatically placed your hands on his chest but didn't actually try to push him away. The devil on your shoulder whispered that you should seize the opportunity to steal a kiss but you couldn't quite find the audacity to do such a thing just yet.

"You got yourself a deal," he drawled.

"You'll help me prepare?"

"Yes."

His lips brushed yours ever so slightly as he said it and the jolt of heat that action sent through you must have been the catalyst for what you did next. Throwing caution to the wind, you raised onto your tiptoes as you grabbed his shirt and covered his mouth with yours.

For one endless moment, he remained motionless.

Dread bubbled up within you as you realised you might have just made a huge mistake. But then he fisted your hair, giving a rough jerk to tilt your head back, while the other grabbed your bum as he pulled your pelvis flush against him. Your knees all but buckled at the sensation of his strong grip and when he bit your lower lip to demand entrance, you instantly complied. Arching your back, you moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his wet tongue against yours.

It was by no means a gentle exploration.

Eric was as domineering in his kiss as he was with everything else he did. Had it been anyone but him you might have tried to give as good as you got but not only did Eric not allow you any opportunity to do so, you also found yourself liking how demanding he was. He plundered your mouth, teeth scraping across your bottom lip, expecting absolute obedience. To your eternal shame, it reduced you to putty in his hands.

You slid your palms up over his chest, humming appreciatively at the firm muscles hidden beneath his shirt before you linked your hands behind his neck. An embarrassingly high-pitched squeal escaped you when he grabbed your bum and hoisted you onto the counter. A few pens and antiseptic wipes crashed to the floor but neither one of you paid it any mind. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you shivered when he rocked his hips against yours. Using your hold on him to dig your heels into his arse, you pulled him even closer as you deliberately rolled your hips which caused his kiss to turn feral.

Eric's chest rumbled as he growled into your mouth and you felt yourself getting light-headed as a tingle shot down your spine and your back arched in response. You were sure that your knickers were completely soaked through by now and you felt kind of restless as your desire to feel more of him increased. Reaching around his torso, you grasped the material of his shirt and began to pull it up, taking full advantage to paw at his newly exposed skin while he retaliated in kind as he nipped at your jawline. A strangled moan escaped you when he slid his hands underneath your shirt and bra to cup your breasts, kneading the full flesh while his thumbs brushed your nipples. The calluses on his palms created an unbearable kind of friction that sent heat through your entire body as your nipples hardened almost instantaneously.

You dragged your nails across the buzzed sides of his hair before you grabbed a fistful of the longer strands on top of his head, giving a sharp pull to tilt his chin back up and attach your mouth to his once more. Desperation made you a little rough and uncoordinated but your senses were so overwhelmed that you had no time to feel self-conscious about it despite Eric's mocking chuckle against your lips.

"Eager little thing," he drawled as he pulled back, unwilling to let you dictate the pace.

Your cheeks heated up as you searched for a witty comeback but before you could form one, he'd pinched your hardened buds, ripping a sound from your throat that was stuck somewhere between a moan and a screech. The mix of pleasure and pain made things low in your belly clench. With clumsy, impatient fingers, you reached between your bodies to unbuckle his belt. Your mouth went dry when your eyes fixed on the deep v-line of his hips. Pressing your palm to the taut skin of his abdomen, you were slightly disappointed when you found no treasure trail to follow downwards but your index finger drew a line from his belly button to the edge of his pants anyway. Even though you couldn't see the play of his muscles since he was biting your collarbone, obstructing your view, you felt them tighten beneath your touch. It instilled you with a heady sense of power, knowing that you could affect him in any way.

Teasingly, you grazed his skin with your nails as you slid further down, past the elastic of his briefs. Eric hissed when you skimmed the very base of his cock and you were just about to take him in hand when the door burst open.

Tori and Four tumbled in with weapons drawn and war cries on their lips but when they caught sight of the two of you in flagranti they came to an abrupt stop. So abrupt, in fact, that it looked like they'd just run into an invisible wall.

Tori's mouth hung open in disbelief as you spluttered in embarrassment and jerked your hand out of Eric's pants so quickly it must have looked as if he'd burnt you. In the meantime, Four let out a choked squeak before he turned on his heel to avert his gaze, smacking into the doorframe in the process. You frantically batted at Eric; at his hands that were still pawing your breasts and his chest to make him take a step back so you could compose yourself.

The man in question, however, remained as cool as a cucumber.

"Get your hands off of her," Four yelled, sounding livid and indignant at the same time.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eric smirk smugly at Four's scandalised tone while you tugged at your clothes to make yourself presentable once he'd given you some space. Tori's surprise turned into an unimpressed glare when she saw him pulling up his zipper and buckling his belt. Your ears were burning so hotly, you knew there should be steam coming out of them.

Could this get any more embarrassing?

"Easy, Stiff. I assure you she was more than willing."

Unable to look Eric in the eyes just yet, you ordered, "Everyone, out."

Four shot you a glare over his shoulder but after a brief glance at his companion, he stomped off while Tori crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, letting you know that she wasn't going anywhere without needing to utter a single word. You huffed at her obstinacy. Not that you'd expected anything else from her.

Hopping off the counter, you bent down to pick up some of the stuff that had gotten knocked off while you'd been too preoccupied with being snogged senseless. You were buying time to avoid having to deal with either Eric or Tori but when Eric brushed past you, heading towards the door, you reacted quickly enough to grab his bicep.

He froze, keeping his body facing towards the exit while he ever so slowly turned his head to look down at you. An imperiously raised eyebrow conveyed smugness and annoyance all at once.

"Craving more already?"

Your eye twitched at his arrogance. How could you have made out with Eric, of all people? You must have suffered a case of temporary insanity! It would not happen again, you swore to yourself.

"I'm good, thanks!" you spat before lowering your voice. "Get it done."

His eyes flashed at your command and you almost expected him to go back on your deal then and there out of pure spite.

"I'll be in touch."

And with that you were dismissed as he rolled his shoulder to make you let go, marching past Tori who was glaring daggers at him.

Time to face the music.

You bit your lip, staring at your boss who cocked her head at you but didn't start talking until the front door had fallen shut.

"At least now I know why you didn't want us to interrupt too early," she commented drily.

"That's not--"

"Wouldn't have guessed that your grand plan was to fuck him into submission, though."

"No, that was-- he--"

"He, what? Intimidated you into giving him a handjob?"

"I did not!" you cried, mortified.

"Not for lack of trying from what I could see."

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands.

"I need a cigarette," you muttered.

"I thought the smoking came after sex."

"Tori!"

"A couple of days ago, I would've congratulated you on getting some," she said.

"And now?"

She paused. "Now, I'm wondering if we should have your head examined."

"He's really hot, okay?" you muttered defensively.

"He's dangerous--"

"I know--"

"-- that's why you're attracted to him."

"What?!"

"I get it, it's exhilarating," she said, plopping down in Eric's vacated seat, "but that doesn't mean it's a good idea."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Of course! I'm not stupid!"

"Then you might want to refrain from letting your hormones guide the way."

"Yes, mum."

Tori's eyes widened as she gawked at you, lacking all of her usual grace, which made you snigger.

"Or would you prefer I call you mummy?" you asked, grinning.

"I'm gonna kick your teeth in if you call me that again."

You snorted. "Noted."

"So," she said after a brief pause, "did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"Your actual plan? Or were you too distracted--"

"I hope so," you answered quickly in order to stop her from teasing you further.

"You hope?"

"Yeah."

She raised her eyebrows at you. "That's all you're gonna give me?"

"I can't talk specifics."

"Why not? Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you but…"

"But?"

"There's something Eric needs to do," you said slowly. "I'll know if he's truly on board once that's been confirmed."

"You're being very vague."

She sounded a little accusing so you hastily added, "I don't want to jinx it. That's all. And I'm not certain whether or not he really believed me."

"Fine. Let's hope you were convincing enough then."

"Yeah, let's.

**~~~**

You spent the next couple of days in a perpetual state of anxiety, bouncing back and forth between congratulating yourself on your devious skills of deception and expecting Eric to off you unceremoniously. In between those extremes, you reiterated to yourself over and over again that the worst mistake you could make would be to underestimate Eric. But, nonetheless, you were hopeful that you'd pulled it off because, looking back at your discussion with him, you were almost certain that he'd bought into your ruse hook, line and sinker.

And wouldn't that be something impressive to put on your résumé? Hoodwinked a Leader of Dauntless.

Shame you wouldn't be able to shout your victory from the rooftops.

If he'd believed you, and came through on the terms you'd set, you'd have to keep quiet about your agreement or he really would kill you with his bare hands. You shuddered minutely at the thought. Though the sole reason you were doing this was so that you would be in a position to go toe to toe with him, you really weren't looking forward to becoming a constant thorn in his side because you didn't delude yourself into thinking that he won't be hell to deal with. You thought it unlikely that you'd ever manage to form some sort of lasting alliance, considering that the only way to hold Eric accountable seemed to be via blackmail.

Currently, you were sprawled across your bed, pouting while you twiddled your thumbs since Tori had thrown you out of the shop about half an hour ago on the grounds of her being driven insane by your restlessness. Not that you could really blame her. The more time passed with no word from Eric, the more keyed up you got. So much so that your hands were a little unsteady, meaning that tattooing anyone was out of the question; even though using the machine wouldn't be a problem, trembling hands didn't exactly inspire confidence in your customers. As a means of distraction, you'd cleaned your flat within an inch of its life and had smoked what felt like a month's worth of cigarettes. It hadn't been enough to calm you, though.

Idly, you wondered if Eric was having problems getting Clay and Logan to vote for you or if he'd already handled everything and was letting you stew longer than necessary on purpose. You scowled at the ceiling; you'd bet that was exactly what was happening. That jerk.

Just when ideas for payback began forming in your mind, your comm device vibrated on your nightstand, making you flinch at the unexpected noise. Your heart started racing. No one even knew that you had one but you had a sneaking suspicion who must be contacting you.

Warily, you grabbed it and huffed when you read the message.

_ "It's done." _

_ "How did you get my number?" _

_ "Don't insult me." _

You could practically hear his bored drawl in your head.

_ "I just bought this comm!" _

_ "Three days ago, I know." _

The blood drained from your face at what him knowing that implied. It probably shouldn't surprise you as much as it did that Eric had the means to acquire sensitive, personal information about any member of Dauntless. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back for having had the presence of mind to transfer your recording of him from the comm onto a flash drive before deleting all traces from it on the former. For once, your paranoia concerning all things Eric had paid off. 

_ "When are you gonna announce my new status?" _

_ "You'll be officially nominated tomorrow night." _

Of course, you'd have to keep up the charade in front of everyone else.

_ "And?" _

_ "And what?" _

_ "Are the others on board?" _

_ "I said it was done, didn't I?" _

_ "So that's a yes then?" _

_ "Maybe you're too stupid to be a leader if you honestly need more confirmation." _

Gritting your teeth as your blood pressure spiked, you breathed in and out a few times. You were not going to let Eric rile you up. No, sir. Not happening.

" _ It's called being cautious, Eric." _

_ "Don't you trust me?" _

_ "No." _

_ "That's the first smart move you've made." _

You rolled your eyes at the screen, imagining his smug smirk as he typed that last bit. Insufferable git.

_ "So it'll be announced tomorrow?" _

_ "Yes." _

_ "When are we gonna meet to train?" _

_ "Tomorrow night." _

_ "After the announcement?" _

_ "Yes." _

_ "I take it you'll want to watch me destroy the evidence?" _

_ "Obviously." _

_ "When and where?" _

_ "After training." _

_ "No." _

He didn't reply right away and you felt as though you could feel his malicious energy all the way from across the Compound.

_ "Come again?" _

A shiver raced down your spine as the hairs at the nape of your neck prickled.

_ "Our deal won't be over until the fight. Just to be sure you'll really do your very best to prepare me. That alright with you?" _

Your pulse was pounding as you waited for his reply. The question was a courtesy. It wasn't as if you were giving him an opportunity to refuse your suggestion and you knew he understood that perfectly. Though your stomach was tied into knots from backing him into a corner like this, the thrill of it all also exhilarated you beyond belief. Maybe Tori was right and you took a little too much pleasure in needling Eric. But it was warranted! And, who else could claim to have a leader of Dauntless in the palm of their hands?

_ "I won't be held responsible for you messing up on the big day." _

That would be fair, you supposed. Ultimately, it would be up to you to follow through after you got nominated and you knew that you'd drive him to do something drastic if you insisted you'd only deliver on your part of the deal if you won. But you needed to make sure he wouldn't participate half-heartedly so giving up your blackmail material before the fight would be lunacy.

_ "Agreed. We'll destroy it after the fight, regardless of the outcome."  _

_ "Fine." _

_ "Splendid. See ya later." _

You'd already put your comm back onto your nightstand with a giddy smile on your lips since you didn't expect him to have anything left to say when it vibrated once more. There was a swooping sensation of foreboding in your belly as you reached for it.

_ "You know, it doesn't look good for a leadership candidate to laze around their room all day. You could at least start working out." _

For a second, you stared at the message, unable to process the meaning of it. Then it hit you all at once and your mouth went dry from apprehension.

_ "What?" _

He didn't reply but he didn't need to. The message was loud and clear: Eric was keeping tabs on you.


	8. Suspense Breeds Doubt

Sleep had been hard to come by that night. You'd kept tossing and turning, running through everything that had happened and all the ways the next day could go horribly wrong.

What if Eric was setting you up? He'd been remarkably agreeable so far - once you'd used up all your aces to blackmail him - and you'd chalked it up to your superb scheming but maybe that had been a little arrogant of you. After all, Eric had a plethora of experience on you when it came to navigating the murky waters of politics. How could you ever hope to keep up, let alone beat him at it? He'd probably lain awake as well, gleefully awaiting your imminent downfall.

These thoughts hadn't left you at all throughout the day which you'd spent in the gym for once since you'd figured you might as well heed Eric's advice and start working out. You couldn't help but feel completely and utterly out of your depth. Inadequate. It was akin to what you assumed balancing on a tightrope must feel like; one little misstep and you'd plummet to your untimely death.

But, oh, the thrill of it all. Every time you stood your ground against him, you came away feeling jittery and invigorated. Alive. It was more of an adrenaline rush than zip-lining from the Hancock building. Maybe Tori had been right and you really were attracted to the air of danger that surrounded Eric. On top of that, he was rather easy on the eyes so it was honestly unfair to blame you for having gotten caught up in the moment a few days ago.

He pushed your buttons like no one else you'd ever met, inexplicably so. Somehow his mere presence gave off the impression of him constantly posing a challenge to everyone around him and you found yourself responding to that on a visceral level despite your better judgement. 

You'd been idling about the tattoo parlour's front windows that looked onto the walkway circling the Pit for the last two hours under the guise of tidying up the place. Tori had raised incredulous eyebrows at you when you'd taken to washing said windows since, in the past, you'd been very vocal about how much you hated doing that but you were incapable of staying anywhere that didn't have a direct view of the Pit. Anxiety and excitement warred within you while you waited for Eric to make an appearance, which you knew wouldn't be for another hour, but still; it was impossible to concentrate on anything else. Needless to say, Tori had forbidden you from doing any work on customers lest you permanently disfigure one of them; her words, not yours.

Not for the first time, you wondered who else would be nominated tonight. Since everything had to look as though there was a democratic process going on and not good, old-fashioned nepotism, you were certain every one of the four leaders would be naming their own candidate. Tris probably had someone capable in mind but since Logan and Clay were in Eric's pocket, you were curious whether or not they were about to set someone they honestly thought deserving of the position up for failure. Come to think of it, maybe one of them would be the one to nominate you. If Eric wanted to keep what's really going on hush hush, it might be a clever move to keep your association as quiet as possible.

Not knowing what exactly he'd planned was driving you nuts but you knew better than to pester him over something like this. Withholding information from you when it was apparent how badly you wanted to know what was going on would probably only bring him joy.

You were rearranging the display for the hundredth time when a hand landed on your shoulder, making you jump sky high.

"Easy," Tori said, holding her hands up as you whirled around.

"For fuck's sake," you breathed, resting your palm over your racing heart, "make some noise, woman!"

"I did! I've been calling your name for the last five minutes."

"Whoops, sorry. I guess I'm a little agitated."

"You don't say," she commented drily. "You wanna tell me the reason?"

Shifting uneasily, you avoided eye contact.

"Not particularly," you muttered.

That was another thing that was making you nervous: How would Tori and Four react when you were nominated for the leadership position? It would have been suspicious anyway but after they'd walked in on you and Eric sucking face, it would look really, really fishy. You just hoped they wouldn't make a scene before you had a chance to tell them what was going on. Though you'd considered divulging your reasons to them beforehand, you weren't completely convinced Eric would actually come through since you were always prepared for him having an unpleasant surprise in store for you.

"Is this connected to the thing you need Eric to do?" she asked archly.

"Yup."

"And you're not gonna tell me what it is?"

"Not yet, no."

She sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you."

"We gotta go."

"What?"

Jutting her chin behind you to the view of the slowly filling Pit, she said, "Candidates are gonna be announced in a bit."

"Right."

All day, you'd been wishing time would move faster and yet, somehow, you were surprised that it had actually passed by already.

"You okay?" Tori asked, eyeing you critically.

"Yeah," you replied slowly, trying to collect and prepare yourself. "I'm just gonna grab my jacket."

Thrusting her hand forward, she wordlessly dangled your leather jacket in front of you.

"Thanks."

With a nod, Tori grabbed your shoulder and steered you towards the door. "C'mon, I'm dying to find out who might become our new leader."

You gave a fake chuckle. "Yeah. Me too."

**~~~**

Forty-five minutes later without so much as a glimpse of any of Dauntless' leaders saw you chomping at the bits.

"Where the hell are they?" you hissed.

"Don't know, maybe something else took precedent."

"What could possibly be more important than this?"

"Beats me."

"The nerve of them, calling everyone here only to keep us waiting," you grumbled.

"Will you shut up?" Four groaned from beside you who'd joined you and Tori shortly after you'd arrived.

"You shut up," you snapped.

"You're a real ray of sunshine today, aren't you?"

"Your wit is disarming, Four."

"Thanks for noticing."

Rising onto your tiptoes, you craned your neck to see past the platform from which announcements were usually delivered to try and see if anyone was approaching.

"That's not gonna make them appear sooner," Tori said with a roll of her eyes at your antics.

"I know that. But it's incredibly rude of them to expect us to just wait here!"

"You know, I just wanted to tell you that you've been a real joy to be around these last few days," Tori drawled. "It's been so relaxing and inspiring. You've been the poster girl for quiet productivity at work."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled even as you felt your face heating up in embarrassment. "Lay off the sarcasm, it doesn't become you."

"Maybe not but it does sustain me."

You huffed a laugh, willing yourself to relax for your friends' sake if not your own and you'd almost managed to do just that when you caught movement on the platform from the corner of your eye. Instantly, your head snapped around so you were facing your leaders who were just stepping onto it as your heart began to race.

Tris was on the far left, taking in the view before she smiled towards her group of friends that were clustered close to the platform. Next to her stood Clay, who you knew next to nothing about. If you were honest, you found him rather peculiar; he was quite plain-looking, especially for a member of Dauntless; middle-aged, receding hairline and showing the beginnings of a beer belly. To you, he could've passed for an accountant with his neatly pressed button down shirt and slacks. It was hard to believe that he'd emerged victorious over whomever he'd had to fight for the leadership position. There was a gap between him and Logan who took his place at the right-hand side of the platform which you presumed was for Eric. Where Clay seemed out of place, Logan looked like the poster child for Dauntless; tall and broad of shoulder with a buzz cut as well as countless tattoos and piercings. The way he stood alone with his feet hips width apart and his arms crossed over his impressive chest screamed military. You'd inked him a couple of times and remembered him as being quick of wit and disarmingly charming.

Then Eric came forward and your heart stuttered in your chest. He braced his hands on the railing in front of him as he lazily surveyed the crowd. Once again, you marvelled at the effect he had on people. Moments ago, the Pit had been a teeming mob but it only took him a few seconds to have everyone's undivided attention. Goosebumps erupted on your skin when his eyes met yours.

"Dauntless," Eric said in a measured tone that carried effortlessly across the crowd, "today, we announce those of you we think worthy of consideration for leadership."

"Guys," you whispered to Tori and Four," whatever happens next, I need you to keep calm and--"

"Keep calm?" Four asked. "Why?"

"Shut up. I promise I'll explain afterwards."

"What are you--" Tori began but was cut off by Eric.

"Please join us up here," he said before he began calling out names.

Yours was the second to last.

It was almost impossible not to breathe a sigh of relief but you tried to make it look as inconspicuous as possible. Though you were aware of their stunned looks, you very deliberately didn't make eye contact with either one of your companions, choosing to march towards the stairs that would lead to the platform instead with your head held high.

The walk felt like it stretched ahead for miles as murmurs broke out around you. You caught snippets of discussions concerning the people who'd been chosen as candidates, yourself included. You were under no illusions about how your peers would take your nomination; they'd surely be questioning the reason behind it. Glancing up before you'd reached them, you locked eyes with Tris who was frowning ever so slightly. Finally, you ascended the stairs to join the other nominees, lining up behind the four leaders.

"We'll announce when the fight will take place as soon as we've reached a majority vote. Dismissed."

And with that, Eric turned on his heel to vacate the platform without so much as a glance your way. 

"What now?" you whispered to Christina, who was standing next to you. You assumed she'd been nominated by Tris.

Shrugging, she said, "Follow the brass?"

You opened your mouth to reply when Eric shouted from up ahead, "What are you waiting for, candidates? A written invitation?"

Christina and you rolled your eyes at each other which cracked the both of you up.

"Now!" he bellowed, making you flinch at the volume.

"Jesus," Christina murmured, aiming a nasty glare in his direction, but hurried up all the same with you in tow.

You were led up to the 12th level that housed the leaders' offices where you were told to wait outside what appeared to be a conference room. Small, squat windows were placed in even intervals at shoulder height. Although they were hidden behind blinds, you knew they afforded Dauntless with a way to defend its Headquarters in case of an attack by deploying snipers on this level that would have the perfect vantage point to pick enemies off one by one. Everything here looked almost sterile; too bright lights glinted off black floor tiles and metal rods that re-enforced the brick walls which were painted a metallic grey.

Exchanging a glance with the other candidates, you gracelessly flopped onto the ground.

"I guess now we wait."

"So, let me get this straight," Christina said as she sank down next to you, "they knew who each of them would nominate before Eric announced it, right? How come they didn't debate who'd they chose as finalists beforehand? Was it really necessary to give all of us hope and make us wait here?"

"Maybe they're just trying to make us nervous," you mused, "while they're having drinks or dinner or whatever."

"I bet that's it," the dark-haired guy, whose name was Owen if you weren't mistaken, said sullenly.

For the first time, you honestly believed that this harebrained plan of yours might actually work out and that would mean you'd have to fight one of these people in order to secure your position. You knew Christina could fight; she might not look it, but you'd bet she hit the gym more frequently than you did and she looked like she'd be scrappy and shouldn't be underestimated. Owen was tall and thin. He looked lithe and you'd bet he'd be quick on his feet, plus his height gave him quite a bit of reach which meant it would prove difficult to get close enough to land a punch without getting hit in return. The other dude had a shaved head. He was short and stocky, reminding you of a professional wrestler; you took in the bulging muscles that looked entirely disproportionate to his rather short stature. If you'd have to take a guess, he probably wasn't the most flexible but would be able to punch your lights out with just one hit.

If it were up to you whom you'd be fighting, you'd choose Christina. At least the two of you were evenly matched but if Eric had as much control over the council as he'd led you to believe, you highly doubted he'd allow someone that had clearly been chosen by Tris to be given the chance of joining leadership since it would mean she'd side with Tris to give him trouble on sensitive matters.

Not that you didn't intend to do exactly that but you had a feeling Eric believed you to be manageable.

A smirk pulled at your lips at the thought of his inflated ego being his downfall; you sincerely hoped it would come as a nasty surprise for him when you and Tris made his life hell. Of course, you'd still have to figure out how to sway Clay back to opposing Eric which might prove difficult since you harboured the suspicion he was an opportunist at heart; one of those people who'd chose the side that benefited them the most, considering he'd been known to side with Max but now that Eric appeared to be the most powerful, he'd suddenly joined Eric. Unless Eric had something on him to force his hand… that was a possibility as well. Making nice with Clay would have to be your number one priority in any case.

You flinched a little as the door was thrown open, ripping you from your musings. Glancing upwards, you saw that it was Tris who wore a reassuring smile and briefly locked eyes with every one of you.

"Owen," she said before she pursed her lips, "Christina, you're free to go."

It was obvious Tris was not at all happy that her friend hadn't been selected.

"Come on in, you two."

She held the door open for you and the stocky dude whose name you'd forgotten. You fought to keep your poker face on as you internally cringed at the thought of having to get into the ring with that wall of muscle. How on earth were you gonna survive that fight? Eric better have some strategy to show you later on or you'd be toast.

Shuffling into the room after the other two, your eyes instantly locked on Eric's, who was sitting opposite the door behind a round table made of mahogany that reflected the gleam from the overhead light and took up most of the space. He was flanked by Logan and Clay to either side of him. One of the unoccupied leather chairs that surrounded the table next to Clay was pulled out and you assumed that it was Tris' seat. The overall impression of the room was sleek and spartan. Unsurprisingly, dark colours dominated it, offset with indirect, blue lighting along the walls that were decorated with maps of the city, patrol schedules and a screen not unlike the one you remembered from Initiation that showed this week's to-do list. 

"This is our command centre," Tris explained once you'd had a good look. "We meet--"

"There's no need to spill the inner workings of our administration just yet," Eric interrupted as he took a seat.

She gave him an exasperated look. "Just trying to make conversation."

"Well, don't."

You almost laughed. He could be such a dick but you couldn't deny that it was highly amusing when you weren't on the receiving end of his snark for once.

"One of them is gonna get the inside scoop anyway."

"Yes,  _ one _ of them. Until we know who it's gonna be, keep your big mouth shut."

Your eyes darted back and forth between them, witnessing this battle of wills. The issue might be a minor one but you had a feeling that this was a common occurrence, judging by the cold glint in Eric's eyes and the mulish set of Tris' jaw as they stared each other down. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Eric had already taken over the council, much to Tris' displeasure, even though, officially, he didn't hold a higher office than any of his peers. Not yet at least.

Your opponent cleared his throat, causing everyone's attention to shift to him.

"Have you set a date for the fight yet?" he asked in a deep baritone.

"Yes," Eric and Tris said at the same time.

The glare they exchanged at each other's audacity to take the lead made you want to laugh. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Friday," Eric said, diverting his attention to you with a rather sardonic quirk of his eyebrow.

"Friday?" you parrotted, narrowing your eyes at him.

That was only two days away! How on earth were you supposed to get ready in such a short time? Was Eric deliberately sabotaging you?

"Yes. You got a problem with that?"

Clenching your jaw at his goading tone, you mutely shook your head.

"Adam?"

So that was your opponent's name, you thought distractedly.

"No, Sir."

You scoffed under your breath. "Suck up."

"You got something to share with the class, princess?"

"No," you replied, smiling sweetly before pointedly addressing him by name, "Eric."

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Tris looking back and forth between the two of you, arching a slim eyebrow as you refused to back down from the staring contest.

Finally, Eric made a dismissive shooing motion. "Go."

As you turned away from the table, you caught Tris' eye who wore an imperceptible smile and gave you a slight nod.

You might have just secured her support.

**~~~**

You were jogging down the stairs, keeping an eye out for Tori and Four when your comm vibrated in the inside pocket of your jacket.

_ "21:00 hrs. 11th Floor Training Room." _

Rolling your eyes at how commanding Eric managed to sound even through text, you checked the time and realised that it was already half past eight. Although it was more than enough time to stop at your place and get changed into workout gear, getting into a discussion with your friends would surely make you late and you shuddered to think about how Eric might react if you dared to keep him waiting.

Crossing the Pit, you were surprised by how many of your fellow Dauntless acknowledged you with a nod or a smile even. During all your planning, you'd never truly stopped to think about how they would react to having you as a leader. You'd come into contact with a vast number of your Faction since almost everyone was tattooed and so you'd either chatted with them in the front of the tattoo parlour or inked them yourself at one point or another and, in general, you got along with most people but you were certain they must be wary about you since they didn't have any evidence of how fit for the job you were. It wasn't as if you'd gone out of your way to prove yourself in terms of fighting so you'd have to be convincing against Adam in order to quell any insurgency amongst your peers. 

How to do that, though? Would it be more impressive to draw the fight out and try to embarrass him or be swift and effective?

You scoffed at yourself. As if you were so accomplished at hand-to-hand combat that you had the luxury of choosing how the fight would go. You'd be lucky if Adam didn't break every bone in your body. Hopefully Eric would have a plan. Since he was known as a brilliant strategist, you didn't doubt he'd put you through your paces tonight in order to prepare you. A traitorous voice in the back of your mind whispered how much you'd enjoy it if he tired you out real good but you promptly shoved that thought aside. Never gonna happen again. You just needed to get laid that's why you were reacting to Eric the way you were.

After you'd gotten changed into sweats, trainers, a sports bra and t-shirt, you hurried up to the 11th floor in search of the gym. Your steps slowed when you reached that level; this was the leaders' residential area and you'd never had reason to be up here before. The hallway was identical to the office floor save for the lack of windows. There were three doors on either side. If everything went as planned, you'd be moving up here. It seemed surreal.

Glancing furtively from side to side, you noticed the fingerprint sensors on all of them and since you couldn't see name plates, you hesitated. You didn't fancy knocking on each door but you didn't know how else to find the right one.

Eric had done this on purpose, you thought as you took a deep breath. He'd gladly take any opportunity to make you uneasy and having you make a fool of yourself in front of the other leaders would be just the thing that would appeal to him.

"Stop dawdling."

"God!" you hissed as you flinched in surprise from the words having been breathed into your ear.

Turning on your heel, you almost smacked into Eric's chest because he was standing so close to you. How he'd managed to sneak up behind you without making any sound, you had no idea.

"I wasn't dawdling, I--"

"Looked like dawdling to me."

"Oh, shut up," you snapped.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow as he stared down his nose at you, making you gulp.

Right. No enraging the pit bull unnecessarily, you reminded yourself.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you said, "I don't know which door hides the super special, super secret training room reserved for leaders only. And, judging by the fingerprint sensors, I wouldn't have been able to get in anyway."

Brushing past you, he approached the door immediately to your left. After his fingerprint had turned the red light green, he flipped on the lights and held the door open for you.

"After you, princess."

"Stop calling me that," you muttered under your breath.


	9. Forceful Seduction

Squeezing past Eric, who refused to move out of the way so that you couldn't help but bump into him, you entered the gym. Your nostrils flared in aggravation at his unnecessary obstinacy but you were determined to not let him visibly affect you; it would just please him and you were determined to be aloofness personified. At least outwardly.

So, just to prove a point, you stopped on the threshold, right next to Eric and did nothing to prevent your elbow from digging into his stomach since you'd still had your arms crossed. In your peripheral, you noticed that he was staring at you but you pointedly ignored him as you took in the room before you.

It was rather spacious. A fighting ring was set up in the middle of it with a bright quadrant of halogen lights above it. A line of blue lights in the form of little dots - each set about a hand's width apart - were encased in the floor close to the walls, framing the room and giving extra illumination to the corners. Near the left wall hung a row of five boxing sacks suspended from the ceiling while the right side boasted three treadmills and two cross-trainers. Across from you, behind the ring, a tall shelf held an assortment of barbells with two rowers situated on either side in front of it. Beside the door, to your right, was a water cooler.

All in all, it contained everything one would need to work on cardio and strengthening exercises.

"No targets for throwing knives?"

"They're in the cupboard. We pin them to the boxing sacks when we feel like practising."

"So they move?"

Eric scoffed. "No, genius, because we're dealing with limited space here."

"Sorry," you muttered, not feeling sorry at all.

"In or out?"

The question must have been rhetorical because next thing you knew, he'd given you a shove that made you stumble into the room as you heard the door close behind you.

What a charmer.

"Do the leaders' rooms have proper windows?" you wondered out loud as you noticed the lack of natural sunlight. "We're still aboveground, are we not?"

"Why, planning how to decorate already? A bit premature, don't you think?"

An exasperated sigh left your lips. "Do you always have to be so quarrelsome?"

"Have to? No."

You sent a brief prayer for patience skywards before you approached the centre of the room.

"Just answer the question."

"Yes, our living quarters have proper windows. Can we get on with it now?"

"I hope this room's got a good ventilation system, otherwise it's gonna get unpleasant real soon."

"Fine, get mauled by Adam the day after tomorrow," he said before he turned towards the exit.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, fearless leader of mine," you said, putting your hands on your hips. "Where do you want me?"

The second those last words had left your mouth, you screwed your eyes shut and winced. That had sounded far too much like a double entendre.

"On your knees," Eric deadpanned without missing a beat.

"Not happening."

"Wanna bet?"

"Eric."

"What?"

"Focus."

"Say pretty please."

Baring your teeth in a snarl, you took a deep breath and pasted a saccharine smile onto your face. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please, would you be so kind as to tell me how you want me to start warming up?"

"Sir."

"What?"

"It's only fitting to address your superiors with respect."

You eyeballed him for a few endless seconds, trying to determine whether he was serious or not.

"I'm not gonna call you sir."

"Have it your way."

He turned his back on you and opened the door, effectively dismissing you unless you consented to adhering to his asinine rules. The nerve of him! But two could play that game. 

"Fine, I'll ask Four," you snapped.

That had been a low blow, considering all of Dauntless was privy to their pissing contests, but Eric had no one to blame but himself. His hand tightened on the doorknob and you felt a savage sense of pride at having gotten under his skin.

He half-turned in your direction and you could see the muscle jumping in his jaw as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Your previous satisfaction at having riled him up vanished as the air became charged. Taking an involuntary step back, you regarded him warily, waiting for his next move. Maybe aggravating Eric when you were locked in a room with him hadn't been the brightest idea you'd ever had. So much for aloofness. He was just so adept at riling you up.

Your heart pitter-pattered as he side-eyed you with an inscrutable gaze, causing your stomach to tie itself into knots as your muscles tensed in preparation for fight or flight.

"I should throw you down the Chasm for your insolence," he whispered, raising the hairs at the nape of your neck.

He wasn't kidding, you could tell, and you opened your mouth to apologise when he abruptly completed his turn and marched towards you, letting the door slam closed behind him. Stiffening your spine, you were determined not to back further away from him but there was an edge to his movements that made bile rise in your throat and caused your feet to develop a mind of their own. Before you knew it, your back touched the ropes that marked the outline of the ring and though your hands rose to fend him off, it was like attempting to stop a car crash from happening.

Eric swatted your hands away before one of his encircled your throat, seamlessly aligning with the bruised outline of his fingers, no doubt. The pressure created a dull throb. With an almost hawk-like tilt of the head, he observed you as he squeezed until your breath came in laboured pants. He wasn't restricting your airways too much and so instead of trying to fight, you did what any animal would do when it was faced with a bigger predator and couldn't flee: you played dead. Willing yourself to calm down, you went still in his grip even though staring into the glacial depths of his eyes made you shiver. You weren't certain what you were searching for exactly but if it was mercy, there was none to be found.

"Go run to your precious Four if you want to," he said quietly. "But if you do, you'll consider our deal over and done with."

"What?" you croaked.

"It's not my fault if you want Number Boy to teach you instead. Let's just hope his honour won't prevent him from showing you how to win by any means necessary."

He was right about that. Four would be too honourable to even consider teaching you underhanded techniques, despite your opponent having the advantage based on body shape alone.

You grabbed his wrist and tugged but he merely raised an eyebrow at you.

"Let go."

"Apologise."

The temptation to roll your eyes at him was almost too strong to resist but you managed.

"I'm sorry."

He let you go instantly.

"What is it with you and choking," you whined as you rubbed the tender skin around your neck. "This get you off or something?"

You'd barely finished the sentence when his hand shot forward again. This time, however, you were able to twist away from him, anticipating that he'd try to throttle you again. Thrusting your hand forward, palm facing him, as a sign of peace, you were unprepared for his next move. Eric pinched the skin between the pinky and ring fingers of your outstretched hand. Immediately, pain shot through you. It was so debilitating that you couldn't think past it as you sunk to your knees. Embarrassingly enough, it made you whimper. You couldn't even form words at first.

"See," Eric drawled, "I told you you'd kneel to me."

"Okay!" you shrieked as your voice caught on a sob. "I'm sorry! Ouch! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Letting go, he regarded you with an expression that screamed distaste as you curled up on the floor, cradling your hand close to your body. Your entire arm seemed to pulse with remembered pain.

"The hell was that?"

Instead of answering, he crouched down in front of you.

"Ready to obey yet?"

Pursing your lips, you raised your chin, defiantly meeting his gaze. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

Hatred so hot and all-encompassing that you saw red for a second heated your blood but you reminded yourself that you needed him. For now at least.

"Yes, Sir," you bit out.

"Good girl."

You almost expected him to pat you on the head but he apparently had more sense than that. 

"Get up," he ordered. "Temporarily incapacitating your opponent by pinching a nerve is a useful trick. It'll buy you time but it relies on the element of surprise so consider it a last resort for when you're in a bind. Or need to teach someone a lesson."

The smirk he aimed your way at the last part had you bristling as you clambered to your feet.

"Can I try it on you?" you asked sweetly.

"No. Get on the treadmill."

Taking a deep breath at his commanding tone, you muttered  _ slave driver _ under your breath but did as you were told. Since you'd expected Eric to stand in front of you to observe and critique your form, it came as a surprise when he got on the one next to you after he'd taken off his vest. You didn't gawk at how tightly his black t-shirt clung to his defined muscles. Nope, not at all. Well, maybe a tiny, little peek. It was hugely unfair that he was this hot despite being such a jerk. His personality should cancel out his looks but, alas, you were still ridiculously attracted to him.

One personality trait of Eric's you did appreciate was that he didn't feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless chit chat. Though you'd have appreciated background music, it didn't take long to allow your mind to go blank. Everything - what you were doing, where you were, who was beside you - receded into the background akin to white noise as you stared unseeingly at the far wall, keeping your jogging at an even pace until sweat beaded on your brow. The mindless workout was pleasant and you could already feel the stress of the past days get pushed to the back of your thoughts. Until Eric upped the speed on your treadmill without warning and you almost faceplanted. It took a few stumbling hops to regain your balance but all relaxation you'd felt just a few seconds ago had been successfully banished.

Glaring at Eric, you spat, "A little warning next time, dude!"

He shrugged. "You should've increased it yourself five minutes ago. Not my fault you spaced out."

"Asshole," you whispered.

"Care to share?"

You were certain he'd heard you perfectly well.

"No."

"Stop sulking. I'm doing you a favour, after all."

Scoffing, you said, "You're doing yourself a favour. Let's not pretend your reasons to be altruistic."

"Well, you left me no choice, now did you, princess?"

There was a bite to his voice that sent a shiver of unease through you. Pursing your lips to stop the flippant reply that was on the tip of your tongue from coming out, you reminded yourself not to forget how furious with you Eric must be beneath that unflappable façade of his. Still waters ran deep, after all, and you'd do well to remember that which was easier said than done when confronted with his uncanny ability to make you see red in about two seconds flat.

A tense silence fell between the two of you, interrupted only by the sounds of your breathing. Chancing a glance at the display of Eric's treadmill, you noticed that he was ahead of you in miles and speed, so you adjusted yours to match his, determined to show him that you could keep up. Though he didn't acknowledge your change in tempo, you noticed the smirk pulling at his lips which only served to incense you more.

After a few minutes of this, sweat began to gather at your temples and made your shirt stick uncomfortably to your back. You were tempted to take it off since you were wearing a sports bra beneath but you could already hear Eric's obnoxious commentary to such an action so you discarded that notion as quickly as it had occurred to you. And then almost suffered an aneurysm when he echoed your thoughts by stripping out of his t-shirt in your periphery. Heat that had nothing to do with running rose into your cheeks as you resolutely aimed your gaze forward. You were not going to oggle him, you told yourself. Absolutely not. No need to inflate his already over-inflated ego and risk twisting an ankle due to getting distracted.

But you stayed aware enough of what he was doing to see him increasing his speed once again, which you stubbornly copied. Eric made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. Before long, you were panting pathetically. Your legs felt like they were being weighed down with lead and it became harder and harder to lift your feet enough so you wouldn't stumble. There was no way you could sustain this speed for much longer. Meanwhile, Eric looked as though he'd be perfectly fine to keep going indefinitely.

Grimacing, you forced yourself to persevere. Just another minute, you told yourself. And another. And another.

Your left calf started cramping and a stitch developed in your side as sweat soaked your shirt. With a curse, you ended the programme. Greedily taking in big lungfuls of air, you clasped your elbows above your head as you slowly came to a stop and your ragged breathing returned to normal.

"You're woefully out of shape," Eric commented as you jumped off the treadmill and got some water. "It's a disgrace, really."

Shooting him an annoyed look, you found yourself rooted in place as you were confronted with the sight of Eric in all his shirtless glory. Your mouth went undeniably dry as your gaze travelled from his biceps to his chest. Inadvertently licking your lips, you followed a drop of sweat trailing down his six pack towards his abdomen where it met the elastic of his pants. For a moment, all sounds were drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears as you fought the urge to do something completely indecent just to alleviate the throbbing heat you felt pooling between your thighs.

"My eyes are up here," he drawled, amusement dripping from every syllable which caused you to snap out of your trance-like appraisal.

Shoot me now, you thought as you chugged the paper cup of water in one go, wetting your parched throat.

"Just put your shirt back on," you demanded with the barest hint of a whine. "You don't see me prancing around half-naked!"

"By all means, don't let my presence stop you."

An image of a very naked Eric and an equally naked you entwined in the middle of the ring flashing before your eyes made you take a deep breath to regain your equilibrium even as a pitiful whimper escaped you and your knees threatened to buckle. It wasn't fair that your inappropriate attraction to him put you at such a disadvantage.

"I didn't think you'd be the kind of girl who gets easily flustered."

"I'm not."

His smirk grew more pronounced and acquired a hint of cruelty that raised the hairs at the nape of your neck. "Well, I'm flattered."

The smug ridicule lacing his voice made you ball your hands into fists.

"Shut up."

He was strutting towards you and you intended to sidestep him until you'd managed to calm down but your body refused to obey your brain's orders which resulted in you being backed against the water cooler. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to not avert your eyes as you waited for his next move, determined not to let on just how much his proximity rattled you. Ever so slowly, Eric leant in to the point of his nose almost brushing yours, making your heart race and your belly tighten with want as contradicting instincts battled within you; torn between the urge to lash out and press your body flush against his. Ultimately, he merely reached past you to get himself a cup of water and it took every ounce of self-control you possessed to not audibly exhale in relief once he'd left your personal space.

"Are you quite done?" you snapped.

"Not even close," he murmured.

With a huff, you marched towards the row of boxing sacks. "You got tape?"

A few seconds later, something small hit you in the back, landing with a dull thud on the ground. Tape, no doubt. Closing your eyes, you counted to ten in your head, willing yourself not to flip out. You wondered whether it was impossible for Eric to be pleasant. It sure seemed like it. Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and picked up the tape. You deliberately tuned him out as you spread your fingers, placed your thumb through the loop, wrapped the tape across the top of your hand before you wound it around your wrist three times. Then you wrapped your knuckles thrice as well and brought the wrap beneath your thumb from where you threaded it through the spaces between your fingers. To secure the finger straps, you looped the tape once more around your wrist and around your thumb. Finally, it went around your knuckles thrice more as well as around your wrist before you velcroed it in place.

"That almost looks like you know what you're doing," Eric taunted as he passed you by, walking towards the boxing sack in the middle of the row.

You kept studiously ignoring him as you repeated the process on your other hand.

"C'mon, I don't have all night."

"Why not? Got a hot date?"

"Jealous?'

Pursing your lips, you glared at the back of his head as you got into position with your feet shoulder-width apart and one foot in front of the other so that your shoulder faced the boxing sack. Tucking your chin down, you brought your fists up to your cheekbones and slightly bent your knees. The entire time, you were hyper aware of Eric scrutinising your form.

"Start with the basics," he ordered.

"Duh."

Though you didn't look at him, you registered the shifting of muscles as he crossed his arms over his chest. It sent a tingle of warning through you. A prey's response to a bigger opponent which you chided yourself for since you'd been in close contact with Eric a few times now without anything terrible happening. But that was because you'd made sure he wouldn't be able to dispose of you without a second thought which was also the reason why you couldn't quite shake your wariness. He was neither to be trusted nor underestimated.

"You waiting for a written invitation or something?"

"Just shut up, will you?"

"If you didn't want my help, you should've just said so--"

"I do want your help--"

"Then stop wasting my fucking time!" he barked all of a sudden, making you flinch at the volume.

"Geez, Louise. Relax."

You barely had time to duck when his fist came flying towards the side of your head. Pivoting underneath his arm, you came up behind him but before you'd fully risen from your crouch, he'd swept your feet out from under you, causing you to land on your butt.

"Ow!" you screeched before you shifted sideways to rub your smarting tailbone. "Was that really necessary, asshole?"

"Poor reflexes."

You stared at him, open-mouthed. "Poor reflexes? That's your excuse for trying to knock me out!?"

In response, Eric arched an eyebrow while staring down his nose at you, looking impossibly tall and imposing.

"Bullshit," you growled, further enraged by his silence. "Got a short fuse, huh?"

"Princess, if I had wanted to knock you out, you'd be unconscious right now" he said quietly. "Now get up."

Something in his voice made you queasy. You couldn't put your finger on what it was exactly but there was a quality to it that you interpreted as Eric nearing the end of his patience and you had no desire whatsoever to push him past that line whilst alone with him. As you scrambled to your feet and returned to your previous position, you kept Eric in your line of sight, wary of the steely glint in his eyes.

Because of your unease, you angled yourself in such a way that you could still see him in your periphery as you prepared to throw the first punch. Him suddenly beginning to move was enough to distract you. He circled behind you and you fought the urge to mirror him just so he wouldn't be able to spring a surprise attack on you. That would be just like him and he'd probably excuse it as testing your alertness or something like that. You felt more than heard him stepping close enough for his body heat to become noticeable against your back. As your pulse began to race, your muscles tensed and you stood frozen to the spot while you waited with bated breath for whatever he was planning next. What if he decided to just snap your neck right this second? Were there even cameras in this room?

For the span of a few heartbeats nothing happened.

Then your mind briefly turned blank when Eric stepped so close to you that your upper back and arse came into contact with the front of his body, which sent a spark of such intense want through your system that it made you tremble. Hot breath ghosted across the nape of your neck, stirring the fine hairs there, before it hit the shell of your ear, eliciting a violent shiver from you as goosebumps erupted on your bare arms.

"You're gonna risk injury if you hit from this angle," he murmured into your ear as his hands settled low on your hips and he abruptly pushed you into the proper position.

His voice was nothing short of sinful and the strong grip on your hips threatened to turn your knees into jelly. The muscles low in your belly quivered from the show of strength as wetness pooled between your thighs. Being manhandled should only prompt one response: outrage. But sometimes - in the right situation with the right person - it was such a turn on and something you craved from a partner. You couldn't deny that you'd be very, very interested in letting Eric have his wicked way with you.

Once he'd let go and resumed his position, you had to focus on mentally centering yourself as you tucked your chin under. You executed a basic jab by stepping forward with one foot while you extended your arm as quickly as possible to strike. Your fist hit the sack with a dull thud. The boxing sack barely moved from the impact.

"What are you trying to do, princess? Tickle it?"

His mocking remark flooded your face with heat. Clenching your teeth, you repeated the move with more force. The result was only marginally better.

"Pull your hand back to your face faster after you've hit the bag."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Just answer the damn question!" you snapped.

"You're not here to ask stupid questions," he said in a deceptively soft voice that raised the hairs at the nape of your neck. "Again."

With a huff, you did as you were told, realising the purpose of his correction in the process. It was so obvious, you could hardly blame him for refusing to answer. By making sure you pulled your fist back as fast as possible, you got back into your starting position which allowed you to launch your next attack more quickly and also caused you to protect your face in the interval.

Eric demanded twenty more repetitions until he was satisfied enough to move onto the next move.

As you stepped forward with one foot, you rotated your hips to pivot your rear foot forward while extending your rear arm straight out. This one packed more of a punch. You eyed the swinging boxing sack with more than a little glee.

"Not bad," he murmured. "You can throw your whole body even more into it to increase the impact. Just remember to keep your weight evenly distributed or you'll be easily unbalanced."

You nodded before you followed his instructions and kept at it, experimenting with how much body weight you could throw into it without becoming unsteady.

"That'll do. Next one."

Resuming starting position, you lifted your elbow until it was parallel with the floor and swung your arm forward while you shifted your foot inwards to turn your knee and roll your hip at the same time which gave you the power to make the boxing sack swing. 

"Don't extend your arm through the punch. And keep the opposite hand up to guard your face!"

Concentrating on the angle of your arm, you repeated the hook, fluidly transitioning into a rear hook.

"Almost. Keep your arm at a 90-degree bend."

Again and again, you hit the boxing sack, trying to improve your form. It was hard not to overextend your arm while striking at first because it seemed like the natural thing to do but as you got into a rhythm under Eric's eagle eyes, it began to feel natural.

"Good."

"What was that?" you teased. "Did you just praise me?"

"No."

You rolled your eyes at his predictable response.

"Stop slacking off."

The so-called uppercut required you to throw your punch from the ground upwards as you turned your hip and shifted on the ball of your foot. You thought you had that technique down but, of course, Eric found something to criticise.

"Drop your shoulder a little more in the beginning."

After watching you for a few more minutes in which you tried to apply his advice, he added, "Don't curl your arm. And bend your knees before you execute the punch. That's where the power comes from."

He made you practise that for a few more minutes before he told you to alternate the moves you'd just reviewed, barking at you whenever you forgot to use the corrections he'd deigned to show you. An hour later, you were sweat-soaked, panting for breath and in desperate need of something to drink.

As you filled a paper cup with water, your arm trembled ever so slightly and the nerves in your hands tingled from hitting the boxing sack over and over again. You could practically feel the phantom pain of sore muscles. Not for the first time did you lament the fact that Dauntless' studio apartments were lacking the space for a bathtub and wondered if the leaders' quarters were equipped with that luxury. That alone would make all of this worth it.

"Get over here."

Throwing away the cup, you turned towards Eric, who was already in the ring, and rotated your shoulders to loosen the cramped muscles.

"I find your eagerness to start punching me alarming."

There was nothing you wanted less than to fight Eric one on one but it was a necessary evil if you hoped to stand a chance against Adam. With a healthy dose of apprehension, you climbed over the ropes, joining him. Before you'd had time to assume fighting position, Eric had swept your feet out from under you. A squeak escaped you as, for the second time that night, you landed on your butt.

"Keep your head in the game and stay alert," Eric drawled.

"The fight hadn't even started yet!"

"Aside from not being allowed to use any kind of extra help during the fight, it won't be subject to any rules--"

"Surely someone's gonna blow a whistle or something!"

"You step into that ring and everything goes. Now shut the fuck up and pay attention."

As you stood up, your previous glare transformed into wide-eyed trepidation. You hadn't known that there wouldn't be guidelines to guarantee a fair fight.

"Shit," you whispered and hastily raised you fists as Eric began to circle you.

Mirroring his movements, you took care to keep far enough away from him so you'd have time to react should he attack.

"It might be to your advantage."

"What?"

"It's about coming out on top so if you need to fight dirty in order to win, do it."

"But I'm also trying to prove to Dauntless that I'll be a capable--"

"No one will care how flawless your technique is if you lose," he cut you off brusquely.

"So instead I'll just scratch his eyes out?" you mocked.

"If it's the only way to gain the upper hand? Yes."

You gaped at him, struck speechless for a second. In your wildest dreams, you'd never have expected Eric, of all people, to advise you on fighting like a 'girl', if it came down to it. The impression you'd had of him had made you certain he'd be teaching you impressive moves with a few sneaky, underhanded tactics that would stun your audience while considering any manoeuvres someone less skilled might use to their advantage as undignified for a member of Dauntless, regardless of how effective they might be. After all, you'd seen him demonstrate fight sequences back during Initiation. There was an elegance and efficiency to his every move that made it look like art and you knew he looked down on anyone who wasn't able to emulate him because he considered them unskilled and - gasp - weak.

While you were preoccupied, he shot forward, aiming for your stomach but you snapped out of your musings fast enough to turn sideways so that he only grazed your ribcage.

"Forget what Number Boy taught you," Eric said as he continued to circle. "If you're in a bind, you go for your opponent's eyes, throat, groin or kneecaps. You don't want to let Adam get you on the ground - he'll slam your head against it or choke you into unconsciousness."

"Right."

"Scratch or bite him to avoid going down or aim for his liver," he said, indicating his right upper stomach, his left to yo,. "I don't care. His goal is to injure you. Do the same. Treat it as if it's a fight to the death."

You nodded, trying to commit everything he was telling you to memory while staying tense and ready at the same time. With your back towards the door, you locked eyes with him but, after a few heartbeats, his darted to something behind you and narrowed. Instinctively, you glanced over your shoulder to check what it was.

Had someone come in? No. There was no soul in sight.

Puzzled, you opened your mouth to ask what was going on as you made to turn around and were promptly at the receiving end of a barrage of punches that you were barely able to evade or deflect, let alone counter. Some connected painfully with various parts of your body. Eric had put you so effectively on the defensive that you had no hope of getting in jabs of your own. A hook to your solar plexus made you double over as all air was driven from your lungs.

"One of the easiest ways to quickly gain the upper hand is to distract your opponent. Preferably before the fight has even started because they won't be hyper focused yet. If you look behind them, their instinctive reaction will be to look as well. Even if they don't fall for it, they'll still be tempted to look and it'll shift their focus just long enough for you to act."

"How do you know all this?" you blurted out between gasps. "I can hardly imagine you in a situation where you're not on equal ground."

He raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't always Dauntless."

Blinking, you tried to picture Eric as someone who didn't have the physical advantage in a fight and failed. You knew he'd been Erudite, but the thin, bespectacled stereotype associated with that Faction just wouldn't merge with the man opposite you.

"You want to get the first hit in and throw as many punches at your opponent as you can manage. Don't retreat after you landed the first one unless he manages to deflect and starts retaliating. Chances are, he'll expect you to wait for him to make the first move so take him off guard and hit his throat or kick his kneecaps right away. You want to injure him as early as possible."

"Right."

"C'mon then, princess," he drawled before a smirk appeared on his lips. "Show me what you've got."

Bristling at the challenge in his voice, you attacked. Light and fast on your feet, you concentrated on unbalancing him and hitting his throat. Though his advice to go for the eyes, groin or kneecaps rang through your mind, you couldn't bring yourself to follow through on that, considering that this wasn't a serious fight and you wouldn't put it past Eric to break your arm on pure instinct should you succeed in coming close to actually hurting him. He didn't remain idle, though. Soon, you were engaged in some serious sparring that put the fear of God in you since you were well aware that he was holding back. The only way to hold your own against him was by evading as many of his offenses as possible before striking as quickly as you could. Despite Eric's experience, you did manage to land a few punches. Though never on his vulnerable throat; he was far too skilled to allow that. Your knuckles throbbed from connecting with his chiselled torso.

What was that man made of? Steel?

Forcing yourself to not dwell on how much you wanted to map each line of his defined abs with your tongue, you pivoted and aimed a high kick at his stomach, eliciting a surprised grunt from him as your foot connected. Sweat dripped down your temples and neck and your breath came hard and fast, sucking in deep gulps of air to combat the slight dizziness that threatened to impair your performance.

Eric watched you with a contemplative expression. He'd barely broken a sweat.

"Don't hold your breath while you execute a punch," he finally said. "Inhale to prepare for it and, as you throw your fist, exhale through your mouth; keep it closed, though, otherwise you'll risk breaking your jaw if you take a hit to the chin while your mouth is hanging open."

Following his suggestion, you found that your punches had more power and the dizziness didn't make a comeback even though Eric's counter moves were so fast that you could barely keep up. Your heart was racing as if you'd been sprinting and your legs felt tight and heavy. It became progressively harder to remain limber as you darted around the ring, alternating between ducking and attacking **.** He was closing in, landing more and more punches in an increasingly shorter amount of time so that most of your body was throbbing dully which made it even harder to stay on your game. In your desperation, you went for his side, intending to execute a liver punch but he caught on and you had to retreat quickly, almost stumbling in the process. You repeated the high kick, this time aiming for his throat but Eric anticipated it. Grabbing your ankle, he gave a hard tuck that made you lose your balance which you tried to regain by hopping on one foot as you attempted to free your other foot from his grip. To your surprise, he let go but before you had time to retreat back to a safe distance, Eric lunged forward, hooking his foot behind your ankle while his hand took a hold of your bicep to spin you around until your back bumped against his chest. You hadn't yet regained your feet when his ridiculously corded forearm pressed across your throat, putting you in a headlock. Your hands flew up, trying to loosen his grip but to no avail.

"For fuck's sake," you murmured, miffed at how easily he'd overpowered you as you forcefully blew a lock of your hair that had fallen across your forehead out of your eyes.

"Get out of it," he ordered in a near whisper, hot breath feathering along the side of your neck since his mouth was almost touching your ear.

Eric tightened his arm, restricting your airway and, in response, you turned your head to the side, lessening the strain. Shifting the grip you still had on him so that your fingers were on the inside of his arm near your chin, you shrugged your shoulders in order to create a bit of space so that you could tuck your chin down into the crook of his elbow. Then you bent your knees, sinking down in his hold which made it harder for him to hold onto your neck. Hunching forward, you smoothly hooked your foot behind his ankle and pivoted until your calf was pressed against his before you quickly completed the turn and pulled sharply on his arm, intending to throw him over your shoulder but Eric obviously knew what you were going to do so he wrapped his free arm around your waist and leaned into the move, causing the two of you to do a weird, wobbly spin. Though he wasn't pressing against your throat, he'd clamped his hand onto your shoulder so that the length of his forearm was touching your collarbones.

"Can't you play along for once?!" you complained, eliciting a low, malicious chuckle from the man in question as he pulled you upright against him.

"Wouldn't want me to make it easy, now would you?"

The silkiness of his voice made alarm bells ring in your head even as your belly clenched in response to it. His lips brushed the sensitive skin just below your ear as his arm retreated, the tips of his fingers grazing the line of your collarbone until his hand fastened lightly around your throat. Though you managed to swallow the low moan that had threatened to bubble up, your subsequent exhale was shaky. You had no illusions of it going unnoticed by Eric.

"If you have the opportunity to choke Adam, you want to grab both sides of his neck and squeeze for eight to thirteen seconds," he murmured. "You'll cut off his blood flow via putting pressure on his carotid arteries - not his windpipe - and he'll lose consciousness but he won't suffer any lasting damages.

"You really do get off on the whole choking thing, don't you?" you said even as you stretched your neck until the back of your head rested on his shoulder, trying for nonchalance despite the tingles that tightened your spine.

He made a noncommittal sound. "Maybe it's just a means to an end."

"And what end would that be?"

His hum rumbled through his chest and you could feel the vibrations of it against your back. "Maybe I just like to mark you."

You flushed hotly at that admission.

But was it an admission or was he just playing with you to lure you into a false sense of security before he'd proceed to humiliate you? Not that you felt particularly safe right now; it was more like standing on a precipice while the abyss beckoned you with seductive whispers, daring you to jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make it easier on myself and make sure I wouldn't spread false information, I used [this guide](https://greatist.com/fitness/how-to-wrap-hands-for-boxing#3) on how to wrap your knuckles as reference.
> 
> This site explained [basic boxing moves](https://greatist.com/fitness/boxing-workout-basic-moves-for-beginners#8), which I used as reference for terminology and execution. I purposely didn't mention whether or not the reader character is left or right-handed in an effort to keep it neutral enough so that you guys have an easier time imagining yourselves in her place.
> 
> I looked up tips on how to get an advantage during a street fight [here](https://fightingforsafety.blogspot.com/2011/12/top-5-street-fighting-tactics.html?m=1).
> 
> I've learnt how to escape a headlock as a teen (honestly, it's something every woman should know) but to be sure I didn't get anything wrong in trying to put it into words, I checked the process and terminology on [this site](https://m.wikihow.com/Get-out-of-a-Headlock).
> 
> [There are two types of chokes: an air choke and a blood choke. An air choke closes off the airway to the lungs, thereby preventing oxygen from reaching the heart. A blood choke cuts off the blood flow to the brain. Both types can result in unconsciousness and eventual death for an opponent.](http://www.combatical.com/p/6-chokes-and-holds.html?m=1)


	10. Stress Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the smut chapter, folks!
> 
> Warnings: choking, biting, blowjob, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids), overstimulation, rough sex, no cuddling (aka Eric being Eric), Dom/sub undertones, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism

Eric shifted even closer, pressing himself more firmly against you as his thumb rubbed small circles over your pulse point and the hand around your waist slowly slid upwards, raising the hem of your shirt to above your belly button so that you got to feel the calluses on his palm against the bare skin of your stomach. The friction of that touch alone was enough to make you incoherent. Goosebumps erupted, raising the fine hairs on your arms and tightening your nipples. Eric's grip on your throat loosened before he let that hand trail down over your sternum, his fingertips lightly grazing your skin until he hit fabric. Even through your shirt you felt the ghost of his touch. Once he'd reached the hem of the bunched up cloth, he used both hands to draw it upwards over your rib cage in a sinuously slow movement. Though you were desperately trying to keep your breathing under control, you were close to panting: from his searing touch and from the promise of what was to come.

You sucked in a shaky breath when his hands stilled, resting at the top of your rib cage just beneath your breasts in an indubitably possessive gesture. With the back of your head still leaning against his shoulder, his mouth was level with your ear; there was the slightest catch in his breathing as you arched back into him that would have gone unnoticed if he weren't so close. A small, satisfied smile stretched your lips. At least you weren't the only one affected by the proximity. He was so hard to read most of the time that it tended to make you overthink and question every little thing. 

Your skin seemed to burn where he touched you but Eric had stopped moving. What was he waiting for? An invitation? Glancing up at him over your shoulder, you met his gaze. His pupils were blown wide, darkening the usually silvery orbs to something more reminiscent of gunmetal grey. Your stomach clenched.

"Getting cold feet?" you asked in a deliberately impudent tone, hoping to spur him into action, though your voice was a little strained from desire.

Maintaining eye contact, he slipped his hands beneath your damp sports bra, stealing the breath from your lungs as his thumbs lightly circled your nipples. A ragged moan escaped you even though you tried to keep quiet. You were torn between wanting to slap off the self-satisfied smirk that was undoubtedly on his stupidly handsome face and begging him to apply more pressure. Before you could make up your mind, you had to lift your arms because he was pulling off your shirt and bra in one fell swoop. Throwing any remaining caution to the wind, you turned towards him and grabbed his neck, pulling his head down to crash your mouth against his.

Eric wrapped your braid around his hand, forcing you to bend backwards by giving a sharp pull as he shoved his tongue down your throat while his other hand grabbed your arse, pulling you onto your tiptoes to press his hips flush against yours. His erection dug into your pelvis, making you shudder with want. You held onto his shoulders for dear life as he dominated the kiss. Only when your lungs screamed for air did his lips move down to your neck, biting and sucking on the spot just behind your ear. You slid your palms down over the planes of his chest and stomach, marvelling at the rock solid muscles before you got to the waistline of his tactical pants and worked open the button and zipper. Eric left a wet trail on your throat as his mouth moved to the base of your neck while you tugged his pants and briefs down far enough to free his cock.

Closing your fingers around the base of his thick member, you slid your hand upwards in a deliberately slow motion. You rubbed the sensitive skin on the underside of his cock just below the tip - which caused Eric to audibly suck in a breath - and continued to massage that spot until there was enough precum to wet your palm. With the added lubricant easing your way, you slid your hand back down his shaft. You began to stroke him in a slow rhythm and were rewarded with a quiet hiss from him before he sank his teeth into the crook of your neck. You snarled from the burst of pain, increasing the speed of your hand in retaliation. He moved his hands to your waist and unceremoniously tugged your leggings and your soaked knickers down past your butt. When he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, you were forced to let go of him. Swallowing thickly at the sight of his face level with your bare crotch, you obediently lifted first one foot and then the other as he took off your trainers and leggings.

You were squirming, feeling way too hot and abashed at standing naked and vulnerable in front of him as you waited for his next move. His breath brushed across your mound, making you shiver violently. Just the thought of that hot mouth between your legs elicited a new rush of silky wetness from your core. You gasped when his hand cupped your cunt, his forefinger separating your swollen lips as he rubbed up towards your clit while getting back to his feet. Circling your rapidly swelling nub, he watched you with unapologetic hunger. You grabbed his biceps, nails digging into his skin as he continued to drive you mad with the need for him to properly touch your most sensitive spot and judging by the smirk playing around his lips, he was more than aware of that.

Eric stopped touching you just as abruptly as he'd started. 

Then he put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down onto your knees. You should have protested his presumptuousness since he hadn't seen fit to please you with his mouth but that act of dominance alone made the wetness between your thighs increase exponentially.

Without further delay you shuffled closer and licked up the drops of precum clinging to the flushed head. Eric grabbed the back of your neck and squeezed as you sealed your lips around him, lightly sucking on the tip for a few moments until he lost patience and his hips bucked, forcing himself into your mouth. He didn't go slow but made you swallow him in a merciless, smooth thrust. The salty and bitter taste of him wasn't exactly what you'd call pleasant but the way he felt in your mouth - like velvet-encased steel - made up for it. You went along with his pace until he hit the back of your throat, which made you gag and draw back reflexively. You half-expected him to be a jerk and not let go but he gave you a few moments to recover before his hand tightened once more. Pressing your tongue to the veiny underside of his dick, you slid down, stopping just shy of making yourself choke again as you sucked his length.

Eric was disturbingly quiet, only a few grunts escaped every now and then. If it hadn't been for the firm grip he kept on your neck, you might have gotten self-conscious about whether or not you were doing a good job. As you began to bob back and forth, making sure to keep your mouth sealed tightly around him while you massaged his balls, his hand spasmed every time you swallowed around him, squeezing the back of your neck. A mix of embarrassment and lust set your cheeks ablaze when you became aware of the wet, slurping sounds you made as you serviced him. There was something so demeaning about getting on your knees to suck a guy off but it also gave you a weird sense of power at the same time. Eric's involuntarily thrust after you circled the head of his cock with the tip of your tongue and the way he twitched when you applied just a hint of teeth was proof of the fact that he was very much at your mercy at the moment. It was both filthy and exhilarating.

You felt more than saw his abs tighten as a ragged moan escaped him and then a harsh tug on your braid caused you to retreat, releasing his dick from your mouth with a wet pop. Looking up at him, you demonstratively licked your lips. If possible, Eric's eyes grew even darker. He grabbed your jaw with his free hand so that his thumb and forefinger were digging uncomfortably into your cheeks. The silence that stretched between you made your mouth go dry and your muscles tense. There was a flinty glint in his eyes that made fear skitter up your spine.

"On your hands and knees, princess," he commanded in a throaty voice that did unspeakable things to your insides.

Your heartbeat was impossibly loud in your ears as you did as you were told. Unsurprisingly, you were so turned on that the insides of your thighs were smeared with the evidence of your arousal. Your breathing turned ragged the second he knelt behind you. The heat of his body raised goosebumps on your arms and when he yanked on your hips in such a way that you had to arch your back in order to keep your balance an electric shock went straight to your nether regions. He kept one hand clamped onto your hip while he moved closer. Since his pants were only pushed down far enough to bare his butt, there was the added sensation of the coarse material that covered his legs rasping across the soft skin of your inner thighs, making you shiver. He grasped his cock with his other hand to guide himself towards your opening. After dragging the head back and forth along your slit a few times - nudging your clit on every stroke - he aligned himself and paused.

A few seconds longer and you would've begged him to fuck you as the anticipation caused the throbbing in your core to become unbearable but then he thrust forward, parting your walls until he was securely nestled within you. Without conscious thought, you pushed back, effortlessly taking most of his length due to having been so wet already as you moaned from the feeling of being filled and stretched by his cock. It was exquisite. 

"My, my," he murmured, "how desperate you are to be fucked."

He wasn't entirely wrong. Though you partook in semi-frequent one-night-stands, they merely served to scratch an itch. You didn't care for the guys you took to bed but Eric… there was something about Eric that drew you to him like a moth to a flame and it added a whole new layer to your need. If this was what playing with fire felt like, you'd gladly burn.

Resting your forehead on your crossed arms, you whispered, "Please."

He pulled out and then slammed back into you, sinking even deeper than before.

"Please?"

Your nipples and clit ached from the all too brief flare of friction.

"C'mon, princess," he taunted as he slapped your arse, reminding you of a horse being spurred on by its rider. "Speak up."

Indignation and mindless lust were warring within you when Eric draped himself over your back to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me for it."

The needy noise that came out of your mouth when he began to lightly rub your clit while remaining motionless inside you made him chuckle. 

"Please, Eric," you repeated.

"Please what?"

"Please," you bit out," fuck me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

Before you had time to give a snarky reply, he grabbed your upper thigh and began to ruthlessly drive into you, erasing all other thoughts from your mind with the instant flare of pleasure. Though your muscles were already aching from the previous workout, Eric's hips slamming against your ass as he buried his cock in your cunt over and over again elicited the best kind of burn in your core that you'd probably pay for tomorrow but you didn't care; it felt too good to be fucked like this, especially by him.

Eric was as uncompromising and merciless in this as he was in everything else he did and you had no choice but to submit completely. Not that you minded. For an indeterminate amount of time, skin hitting skin and the wet suction noise from him fucking you were the only sounds filling the gym. The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, adding to the heat suffusing your body that made sweat pool in the small of your back. Though the canvas beneath you was padded, your knees already burned from being shunted back and forth by Eric's hard thrusts.

You were panting into the crook of your elbow where you'd hidden your flaming cheeks after just a few rolls of his hips had instilled in you the uncontrollable urge to cry out his name but although you might be all too eager to bend to his will when it came to sex, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him know just how much you wanted him. He'd never let you live that down.

As if he'd read your mind and sought to thwart your attempts to keep quiet, you suddenly found yourself being pulled into an upright kneeling position so that your back was pressed against his chest. Scrabbling for purchase as he lifted you onto his thighs, causing you to spread your legs obscenely wide, you hooked your arm around his neck, bringing his mouth close to your ear. Eric was still gripping your thigh and hip, forcing you to bounce on his lap at the pace he dictated. The new angle positively wrecked you. It had him entering you in such a way that he brushed your g-spot every now and then, sending heat through your veins and you had to claw at his thigh with your free hand to stop yourself from going insane. But you weren't the only one affected by the delicious friction. Eric's breath came out harsh and ragged. It was music to your ears. You screwed your eyes shut and your mouth parted as you followed his lead to roll your hips in a maddening rhythm that allowed him to plunge deeper and faster into you.

"Rub yourself," he growled.

You moaned at the order. Letting go of his thigh, you brought your thumb to rest on your swollen clit, teasing yourself by rubbing slow, ever-increasing circles around it until you finally made contact. The pressure in addition to his thick shaft filling you made you sob and up your pace, chasing the orgasm that was making your walls flutter. Eric's hand slid from your hip to your abdomen where he pressed down hard enough for it to hurt. You wriggled in an attempt to make him stop since you had difficulty forming words at the moment but his next thrust somehow hit your g-spot in such a way that the coil in your belly burst unexpectedly, flinging you over the edge.

Your inner muscles clenched around him and you threw your head back, arching against him as tears sprang into your eyes and you hoarsely screamed his name. Eric held you immobile against him as he continued to fuck up into you at a marginally slower pace, making you spasm as you came down from your high. He felt unbearably big all of a sudden.

"Eric, stop--"

"Not yet."

His arm locked around your hips as he pushed you forward into your previous position. Lacking the strength to rest your weight on your arms, you found yourself with your cheek and torso pressed to the canvassed floor as Eric took hold of your hips with both hands and began to fuck you into the ground. His grip was hard enough to leave bruises as he feverishly pistoned his hips, seeking his release. You felt boneless and satiated but his rough thrusts began to hurt as his cock kept chafing against your oversensitive walls.

He was uncompromising in his use of your body. All you could do was lie there and take it even as painful spasms made your muscles cramp from the prolonged friction. A few stuttering thrusts preceded a throaty groan before he withdrew abruptly and you felt hot wetness hitting your lower back and butt.

As you worked on regaining your breath, you heard a zipper being pulled up. Though your eyes were still closed as you waited for your heart rate to return to normal before you so much as thought about getting up, you weren't surprised when retreating footsteps reached your ears. Then the door opened.

"I'll be here tomorrow at 3pm to continue," he said, sounding just as unruffled and distant as he usually did, "so make sure you're warmed up and ready to go."

The door closed with a resounding thud, leaving you to put yourself back together after he'd taken you apart so thoroughly.

**~~~**

The walk from your place to the tattoo parlour had never felt longer. Whoever claimed that sore muscles didn't set in until 48 hours after working out was a filthy, filthy liar. Every atom in your body was screaming at you in protest for having gotten out of bed. How on earth you were expected to resume your sparring lessons with Eric today, you had no idea. And thanks to his… rigorous training, you were littered with bite marks and bruises. Your hip and thighs bore imprints of his fingers, in addition to the still visible marks circling your throat and the new bites decorating your neck. He apparently hadn't been lying when he'd told you he liked to mark you because he sure as shit had done just that rather excessively. And if you'd experienced a spike of arousal when you'd discovered them this morning, no one needed to know about that. Least of all Eric.

Sucking in a deep breath, you entered your workplace with no small amount of wariness. Just as expected, Tori's head snapped up and her gaze seemed to burn right through you as you approached the desk.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey?" she snapped. "That's all you have to say?"

"Well, no, but it's a customary form of greeting--"

"Shut up, smartass! What the hell happened yesterday?"

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you muttered, "I got nominated for leadership?"

She whacked you with the sketch pad she'd been busy drawing on. "I know that! I was there!"

"Ow! No need to get violent!"

"Be grateful I haven't resorted to more violent means to smack some sense into you!"

"Okay," you said, raising your hands as if trying to calm a feral animal, "you're mad, I get it."

"You're damn right I'm mad! Why didn't you say anything beforehand?"

Sighing, you slumped against the desk. "Because I wasn't sure Eric would come through. I was expecting him to pull some underhanded move on me at the last minute despite our agreement."

"What exactly does this agreement of yours entail?"

Your mouth snapped shut.

Tori growled your name in warning but you couldn't bring yourself to tell her. This thing between you and Eric was like walking a tightrope and you felt as though one misstep would make it all come crashing down. You doubted Eric had told anyone about your deal and you had qualms about letting anyone else in on the specifics. Then again, Tori was your friend and she'd believed you when you'd told her about Max.

"The fight's tomorrow," you said instead, "I'll tell you after. Whether I win or not."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared you down. "By then it'll be over anyway, won't it?"

You gulped. "Yes. The deal's not contingent on the outcome."

She narrowed her eyes at you. "Then why were you nominated?"

"Because that's what I get out of it. The possibility to earn a leadership position."

She reared back as if you'd struck her. "Is that why you went after Eric? To use Max's death to your advantage?"

"No!"

"Then explain yourself or I'll do some revealing to our Faction myself."

You knew Tori well enough to know that she didn't make empty threats. Dragging a hand over your face, you let out a weary sigh.

"As you know, I wanted Eric to believe I had proof of him murdering Max."

"Yes, and?"

Lowering your voice, you said, "He intends to take over Dauntless. That's why he did it. To take out his biggest opponent."

"My god," she murmured after a beat of silence. "What does he have planned for Dauntless?"

"I don't know. But I intend to find out. And thwart him."

"That's why you made him nominate you?"

You nodded. "Eric insinuated that Clay has also switched to his side... I don't know why - maybe Eric is threatening him, maybe Clay is an opportunist - but whatever the reason, Tris is the only one left to stand up to Eric on the council."

"And if the new leader sides with him as well--"

"-- then Eric has free reign."

"But even if you - or someone else who despises Eric's intentions for Dauntless - takes the open position, wouldn't it still be three to one?"

"Yes," you admitted begrudgingly, "but I plan on talking Clay into siding with Tris and me. If he's only looking out for himself, all we need to do is give him enough incentive and if Eric's got something on him, we'll find a way to help him. We cannot let Eric get Dauntless involved in whatever nefarious plan he's got. I might not know what his goal is but I can guarantee it won't be anything good."

"Agreed."

"It'll be difficult enough to keep Eric in check even if I make it and we get Clay on our side. According to Tris, Eric's vote will hold more sway if he becomes Dauntless' spokesperson."

"Fucking politics," Tori cursed. "Have you talked to Tris about all of this?"

"No. It's all been happening so fast and I'm trying to get ready for the fight, there's hardly been time."

"You're in over your head, kid," she said quietly after a few minutes.

"Don't I know it."

"You should've told us."

"I know. I know I should have. It's just that--"

"-- you enjoy going toe to toe with Eric."

"No, that's not--"

"Yes, it is. Stop lying to me and yourself."

"Fine. Maybe. But the main issue is that I can't trust anyone else to take on Eric and I already put myself on his shitlist anyway so I might as well see it through."

"Alright, so after the fight, you'll…?"

"Destroy the supposed evidence I've got against him."

"And how, pray tell, do you plan on keeping Eric from killing you once you've got no more blackmail material? He could make it look like an accident."

"I've got… insurance."

"Insurance?"

"Yes."

"And that insurance wouldn't happen to be located between your legs?"

"What?!"

She gave you a wry look. "Honey, your neck is littered with bite marks that weren't there the last time I saw you."

Your cheeks heated up under her scrutiny. "Who says these are from him?"

"Please," she scoffed. "I wasn't born yesterday. I recall the compromising position Four and I found you in all too well. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I've got a feeling that you spent some time with our fearsome leader last night, didn't you?"

"How did you--"

"Four."

"There are cameras in the gym?!"

"No, in the corridor," she said, sounding surprised at your outrage. "You did it in the gym?"

"H-he agreed to instruct me in hand-to-hand combat as part of our deal!"

"Uh-huh. The horizontal kind, I take it."

"Tori!"

"For someone who claims to hate his guts, you sure seem eager to jump his bones any chance you get."

"He was all shirtless and sweaty," you spluttered, "he could've talked me into anything!"

"Where's your will power?" she teased. "Or your sense of self-preservation."

"He's kinda growing on me," you lamented, "like a fungus."

Laughing, she gave you a sly look. "C'mon, spill. How was he? Is he as strict in the bedroom as he is in general?"

You hid your face in your hands. "That is none of your business."

"Getting territorial already?"

"I'm no such thing. If you wanna know so badly, why don't you go and find out for yourself."

"Alright."

Your head snapped up at that.

Tori cackled. "Relax. Loverboy's all yours."

"Oh, shut up."

As you shuffled past her to get started on some chores, she grabbed your arm. "You can't trust him."

"I know that."

"No, listen to me: do  _ not _ make the mistake of trusting him. Not even for a second. Eric's not gonna stand for being blackmailed. You can bet your sweet little arse that he's coming up with some nasty surprise for you as payback, no matter how nicely he's playing along right now."

Her words sent a frisson of fear through you. She was right, of course, and he had been uncharacteristically acquiescent lately. Had you become too cocky? Too convinced that your little scheme had put him on a tight leash?

You needed to find out more about what his comment about  _ Divergent activity _ had been about and who he'd been on the phone with as quickly as possible in order to keep said leash once your supposed proof of Max's murder had been destroyed.

**~~~**

You were going through stretching exercises in preparation for sparring, hoping to soothe your smarting muscles after you'd gotten warmed up on the treadmill and had reviewed the boxing moves Eric had shown you last night when he arrived. One contemptuous sneer at your current occupation had you bristling instantly.

"I said get warmed up, princess, not play prima ballerina."

The temptation to flip him off was almost too strong to withstand. "Stretching not only increases flexibility but soothes cramped muscles," you said primly.

He smirked at you, letting his gaze slowly sweep over your body. "A little sore, are we?"

His voice was a seductive purr that made your belly clench as you flushed hotly.

"And whose fault is that?" you snapped, eliciting a throaty chuckle from Eric that only served to piss you off.

Arrogant sod.

"How did you get in here?" he asked offhandedly.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Disappointed I didn't have to wait for you like a stray dog?"

"Yes."

Taking a deep breath in order to not lose your temper, you said as sweetly as you could, "Clay was kind enough to let me in."

He grunted in acknowledgment and a groan escaped you as you got to your feet. This was gonna suck, you thought. You'd do your best to push through the pain but there was no way that this wouldn't impact your reaction time. 

It took less than half an hour to prove your prediction to be correct. But Eric took no pity on your compromised state and kept coming at you, pushing you to put up a fight for far longer than you felt capable of. As a result, you got your arse handed to you. Hours later, you were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, bemoaning every hit he'd landed.

"I'm dying," you whined more to yourself than him.

"Get up."

"Why? So you can use me as a punching bag a little longer?"

He sighed in annoyance. "Stop complaining. I'm only honouring the terms of our agreement."

"And taking pleasure in beating me to a pulp," you added archly.

"That too."

"You're impossible."

"You're gonna lose if you perform like this tomorrow."

You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking at him with a frown born out of worry. "I know. But there's not much I can do to combat sore muscles. Hopefully, the adrenaline will push most of the pain aside as long as I'm in the ring."

He hummed, giving you an inscrutable look.

"What?"

Raising an eyebrow at your demanding tone, he shrugged and changed the subject. "Don't you need to get ready?"

"Get ready?"

"For tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"What's tonight?"

"The party."

"What party?"

"What is this, twenty questions? Or are you playing dumb to get on my nerves on purpose?" he snapped.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"In celebration of the upcoming fight," he said slowly, "Dauntless is throwing a party in the Pit for our two nominees."

"That so?"

"It is a great honour to be in a position to fight for leadership, after all."

"Indeed."

Eric held out his hand and you stared incomprehensibly at it for a few seconds. Was this a trick? Warily, you reached out and let him pull you to your feet which he did with enough force to make you bump into his chest. Feeling the hard muscles beneath the palm you'd raised to brace yourself brought back thoughts of last night, eliciting an involuntary shiver from you.

Looking up at him from under lowered lashes, you murmured, "Thanks."

He let go of your hand without further comment and motioned for you to follow him out with a jut of his chin. Once you were in the corridor, he marched towards his flat door without another backwards glance.

"See you later, I suppose," you called after him, rolling your eyes at his rudeness.

You couldn't think of anything you wanted to do less than getting dolled up and spending time in the Pit instead of in your bed with a warm water bottle to soothe your aches but duty called.

**~~~**

People congratulated and hugged you on your way to the Pit, wishing you good luck for tomorrow. It was disconcerting. You'd never had to deal with this level of attention before. Usually, you walked around the Compound with no one batting an eye at your presence. No wonder Eric was so full of himself if people showed even a sliver of this amount of reverence on a daily basis.

You didn't see Tori or Four anywhere and the barrage of fellow Dauntless trying to engage you in conversation was getting to you so you ascended the stairs and found a shadowy place on the catwalk that circled the Pit, giving you a good vantage point to observe whatever was going to happen while still being visible to those who bothered to look up. The boisterousness of the crowd was already considerable as the noise level could attest. If your mind hadn't been so preoccupied with the fight, your little blackmail charade and whatever was going on between you and Eric, you would have been able to enjoy it more.

A high-pitched whistle caught your attention. Tori had just arrived and was waving at you to come down before she mimed throwing back shots, making you laugh and nod. As you took a step back, you bumped into someone. A second later, thickly muscled forearms appeared on either side of you, caging you in as their owner braced himself on the railing. Even if the tattoos on that arm weren't as unique as they were, the scent that enveloped you had become achingly familiar as well: smoke from the Pit's fire clinging to clothes, a barely recognisable cologne that reminded you of cedar or pine buried beneath the fresh, citrusy scent of soap.

Eric's lips brushed the shell of your ear when he whispered, "Surveying your kingdom?"

"It's not mine yet."

"Yet," he repeated with a quiet laugh. "You're ballsy, I'll give you that."

Looking down, you saw the remnants of the scratches you'd left on his unadorned arm and lightly traced them with your fingertip.

"You need to make an appointment to get your tat finished."

"After you've won."

You couldn't have suppressed the grin that appeared on your lips even if you'd wanted to.

"So your bet's on me?"

"If you can push past your sore muscles? I definitely taught you well enough to make it."

A groan escaped you as you rolled your eyes at his continued arrogance. You already felt like you'd been run over by a train and you had no illusions about the pain having lessened by tomorrow.

"If only there was a magic cure I could take."

Eric made a sound, stilled as if he'd thought better of it, then shifted ever so slightly. Curious, you craned your neck to glance up at him over your shoulder.

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "What?"

He stared at you in a cooly calculating way before he reached into his pocket. The rustling sound of whatever he was grasping clued you in that it must be plastic which only served to increase your curiosity. Then his closed fist appeared in your line of sight and when he opened it, a little plastic bag containing two white pills lay in it.

"What are you trying to do, get me high?"

Eric scoffed. "They're painkillers."

"Painkillers?"

"Yes."

"You think I should take painkillers for my sore muscles?"

"I wouldn't recommend making a habit of it or exercising won't do shit for making you stronger but…"

"The ends justify the means?"

"You want them or not, princess?"

You hesitated which apparently was enough to try Eric's patience. He forcefully grabbed your hand with his free one to deposit the pills into your palm.

"Take them before the fight tomorrow," he ordered. "Or not, I don't care."

"You're such a charmer," you said with a sigh as you slipped the small bag into the inside pocket of your leather jacket.

"I'm just exercising due diligence so you won't be able to claim I didn't honour our deal. Now, I've done everything I can to prepare you and if you still manage to lose, it'll be on you."

"I won't lose."

"We'll see," he murmured. "You'll hand over those flash drives before you get in the ring, understood? Before you get carried away with celebrating your new position."

Because Eric was standing so close, his breath stirred the fine hairs along your hairline. The sensation, in addition to the solid heat of his body behind you, was enough to turn you on even though you mentally chided yourself for responding to him like you were a fucking teenager. Stupid fucking hormones.

"Fine. Do you even want me to win?"

"I haven't made up my mind." Leaning in even more so that your stomach was pushed against the railing, he placed his hand on your bare thigh just shy of your dress' hemline. "But I guess it wouldn't be the worst to have you around on a regular basis."

Your breath hitched. "Don't fool yourself, I'll be your worst enemy."

His lips touched the spot behind your ear and you felt him smirk against your skin. "I'm counting on it."

"Why? Because you thrive on adversity?"

"Because I'll enjoy the challenge of making you submit."

You snorted derisively. "Your arrogance is astounding."

"It's not arrogance if you can back up your claim."

Taking a deep, calming breath, you said in your sweetest voice, "Well, better prepare to be surprised by an unexpected outcome then."

"As if you'd have any hope of being a match for me."

Condescension and amusement dripped from every word, making your hackles rise.

"Ever heard of something called positive reinforcement?" you snapped, miffed that he didn't take you seriously.

"That what you need, princess? Praise?" he purred lowly. "Earn it."

You opened your mouth to retort but Eric chose that moment to slide his calloused palm higher, eliciting a pitiful whimper from you.

"You left bruises, you know," you told him instead in a hoarse voice as he squeezed your upper thigh none too gently.

"Good."

His hand moved high enough to bring his knuckles into contact with your knickers, causing you to arch back against him in response. Your heart was pounding as you found yourself spellbound, waiting for what he intended to do next. Surely, he was just teasing you. Considering your very public location, he wouldn't  _ do _ anything… right?

"Eric?"

He hummed against your ear and slipped his finger beneath the elastic of your knickers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

His answering laugh was so low it was almost inaudible, holding a hint of cruelty that caused things low in your belly to tighten. "If that's not clear to you either I'm not doing a very good job or you're being deliberately obtuse."

"Eric--"

"Quiet."

You clenched your jaw, hating that he was arrogant enough to assume he had the authority to order you around in a situation like this and hating it even more that you'd complied at once on pure instinct. A shaky breath fell from your lips at the first feather-light touch that had him tracing your rapidly dampening slit. His actions were hidden by the skirt of your dress but given the altitude someone glancing up might be able to look up your dress. Heat rose into your cheeks and began to coil in your belly. No one would dare question Eric on anything he chose to do but exhibitionism so hadn't been on your agenda for today.

"Eric...," you began again.

"Do I need to gag you?"

Your mouth snapped shut as a flash of desire shot through you, increasing the throb between your thighs. His words painted a picture that made your nipples tighten with a delicious tingle.

"Or maybe that's what you want me to do," he purred, circling your clit so softly it drove you mad with need in no time.

You canted your hips forward, pushing against his hand in an effort to create more pressure. Eric slapped your cunt, making you flinch more from the unexpectedness than any real pain. 

"Behave," he commanded before he resumed lightly touching you.

Your breath quickened as you shuffled into a slightly wider stance to give him more access. Eric finally brushed your clit, making you moan before he parted your swollen lips in a downward stroke that stopped at your dripping entrance. Slowly, he pushed his forefinger into you. Rolling your hips, you eagerly met his intrusion in your desperation for friction. A few long strokes had you bowing back into him as you bit your lip to stop yourself from making too much noise. Your racing heart almost drowned out the laughter and shouts from the crowd below you but the beat of the music seemed to bleed into your veins, merging with your rapid heartbeat into a frantic rhythm that set you ablaze.

Turning your head, you hid your face against the crook of his neck to smother your whimpered cry as he added a second finger and began to scissor you open while his thumb rubbed across your pulsing clit. His scent assaulted your senses and you greedily drank it in as the pleasure his touch brought threatened to turn your knees to jelly and made sweat bead on your skin. Your hands tightened on the metal railing from the onslaught of delirious friction as Eric increased his speed and your frantically rocking hips met his thrusts in a demand for more.

"Fuck," you whispered before you had to muffle your strangled moan by pressing your mouth against the tattoo snaking up his neck.

Your legs were shaking as the muscles in your belly contracted. The only thing keeping you upright was being caught between the railing and Eric, whose hard body was practically molded to your back. Being hyper-focused on the pleasure radiating from the apex of your thighs muted everything else and made you aware of the slick sounds that came with Eric's fingers plunging into your cunt and the sticky wetness smearing your inner thighs.

"More," you pleaded huskily.

"You need more, princess?" he mocked.

A sob was torn from your lips while you nodded emphatically, rubbing your cheek against his shirt in the process. You thrashed in his hold as his thumb brushed the underside of your clit with just a hint of nail.

"Say please."

Interlacing your hand with his unoccupied one to have some part of him to hold onto, you breathlessly begged him and cried out when he forced a third finger into you. It was enough to push you to the edge but you couldn't quite claim release and it soon became unbearable. You didn't know whether you wanted him to stop or continue as your walls began to flutter intermittently.

Reaching down, you encircled his wrist and made him adjust the angle until his calloused fingertips brushed that elusive g-spot, causing your hips to buck and your spine to arch so sharply you felt as if you'd been electrocuted. Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Eric who deliberately scratched that spongy bit of flesh inside you with his blunt nails. That, combined with the way his thumb was furiously scraping against your clit, made you cum all of a sudden. Your legs clamped shut of their own accord as your muscles clenched and you bit your lip hard enough to taste blood as you rode out your climax, panting against his neck.

Eric wrapped his arm around your waist as you sagged against him and since you were still holding his hand, your arm followed the movement. It took several minutes for your heart to gradually stop pounding in your chest. He made a movement that suggested he was about to pull away but you tightened your grip.

"I'm gonna crumple to the floor if you move now."

"And?"

His voice was utterly dispassionate which shouldn't have come as a surprise but given what he'd just done to you, it rankled.

"Asshole," you whispered as you made sure your knees wouldn't give out.

And not a moment too soon because, in response to your insult, he stepped back, forcefully extracting his hand from yours. You let go of his wrist after he'd wiped his fingers on your inner thigh and braced yourself against the railing until you felt sure you wouldn't topple over. Turning around to face him, you half-expected him to have left already but Eric was staring at you with an expression caught somewhere between smugness and appraisal.

"You wanna tell me what inspired you to--"

Your words stuck in your throat as reality crashed back into your pleasure-addled mind. A quick glance down and around you at the crowd had several Dauntless hastily averting their gazes. Now heat shot through you for an entirely different reason as embarrassment made you stiffen in self-consciousness. 

"Get you off?"

Wide-eyed, you stared at him and gulped at the leer some dude at the far end of the catwalk aimed at you. What the hell had you just done? Or, rather, allowed Eric to do to you in public? You must have made some kind of expression since Eric turned to look at the guy who blanched at having caught the young leader's attention and beat a hasty retreat. Great, now people would think you were weak, depending on Eric for protection, in addition to being slutty.

Cursing under your breath as the afterglow from your orgasm faded as rapidly as if you'd been doused with cold water, you said, "I need a fucking drink."

He smirked. "Follow me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding using painkillers to combat sore muscles:  
> [Inflammation causes pain, but it's also the first step towards healing. When you work out, you're damaging muscles. In response, your body adapts, healing that damage and making you stronger so that you can better handle those forces in the future. [...] There's reason to think that artificially suppressing the initial inflammation could prevent that healing process, neutralizing some of the real benefits of exercise. [...] There's an exception to all this, of course. If you have an actual injury, using a painkiller to reduce inflammation may help you heal. But for general muscle soreness, you're better off just toughing it out.](https://www.businessinsider.de/ibuprofen-advil-tylenol-muscle-soreness-pain-2016-10?r=US&IR=T)


	11. A Hard Lesson

Sunlight tickled your face, making you groan and burrow further into the pillow as you curled up. The throbbing in your temples and the foul taste in your mouth didn't make for a promising start to the day. You'd almost dozed off again when it registered in your brain that your little studio apartment didn't have a window that faced your bed. Adrenaline kicked in and you bolted upright, squinting in the bright light. The abruptness of your action made the covers fall to your waist. With a shriek, you pulled them back up once you realised you were naked. No, this was definitely not your place.

For one, this was just a bedroom, not a living room combo, and the bed was big enough to comfortably fit two people whereas you had a standard issue double bed. The duvet was black but the bedsheet you held clasped to your chest in a death grip was charcoal grey. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who you might've spent the night with, making you groan as hazy images of being pushed against a door and being undressed on the way to this very room emerged in your mind.

Slapping a hand to your forehead, you admonished yourself for your stupidity. Though that very public tête-à-tête with Eric had been intoxicating in its debauchery, you knew full well it had probably damaged your reputation. Even though Dauntless wasn't exactly known for its modesty, letting everyone know you were banging him just after your surprising nomination for leadership might not have been your wisest move. Then again, as long as you didn't act as though you'd done something wrong, others would shrug it off as just another adrenaline junkie getting her fix. After all, half of Dauntless wanted to get in his pants.

In the immediate aftermath, the sideways glances and whispers had bothered you, especially the prospect of having to face Tori, who must've been privy to what was happening since she'd been in the crowd so you'd deftly avoided her last night by sticking to Eric. One of the perks of running around with him and his murderface was that no one else dared to interrupt. Despite other members trying to gain his favour by ingratiating themselves to him, his glare of doom was a built-in people repellent; you really needed to perfect your own version of it. Of course, it was probably also due to the fact everyone knew he wouldn't hesitate to knock someone's teeth out at the slightest provocation.

You listened for signs of Eric being in the flat but everything seemed quiet so you wrapped the bedsheet around you since you didn't see your clothes anywhere and tiptoed towards the door followed by a barrage of colourful curses as your every muscle protested the slightest movement. Holding your breath, you slowly turned the doorknob and stuck your head out into a narrow, dark hallway. To your left was a door that led to a bathroom; white-tiled and average in size but large enough to have a bathtub. You fought the urge to draw yourself a bubble bath though you doubted Eric was in possession of any bath salts or oils, hell, he'd probably never even used the damn thing except to maybe ice his muscles which was an awful waste in your opinion. 

You tiptoed into the living room and relaxed when there was no sign of him anywhere. Windows took up most of the wall in front of you. You could see the old Ferris wheel in the distance. A massive black leather couch and a flat screen TV took up most of the space but there was also a kitchenette in the far left corner and a well-stacked bar to your immediate left. You blinked in astonishment at what occupied the wall to your right: it was filled with bookshelves.

Slowly, a grin started to form on your lips.

Careful, Eric, you thought, your Erudite is showing.

During another sweep of Eric's inner sanctum, you noticed that your dress and leather jacket were slung over the back of the couch, almost indistinguishable from the piece of furniture, while your boots were placed neatly in front of them. Letting out a sigh of relief, you padded over and snatched them up. Now, if only you could locate your underwear as well…

Once you'd ditched the bedsheet in favour of last night's dress and your jacket, you stepped into your boots and fought the urge to snoop through Eric's belongings in favour of getting ready for today's fight. You turned towards the front door and gasped. There was a rather large knife stuck in the wood, pinning a pair of very familiar knickers to the centre with your bra dangling from the hilt. Hurrying over, you gripped the knife's handle and - after a couple of tries - pulled it out, tittering the whole time.

That cheeky bastard!

This knife was yours now, you decided spitefully. You grimaced as you put your knickers back on. A loooong shower would be the first order of business after you'd completed your walk of shame. Once again, you found yourself cautiously opening a door and sticking your head out to make sure the coast was clear.

You'd just emerged from Eric's flat when you turned around and came face to face with Tris. And froze. Her eyes darted from you to the door and back before taking in your clothes and rumpled appearance, putting two and two together. All the while you stared at her like what you were sure resembled a deer caught in headlights. You should come up with an excuse or at least try to explain yourself but your mind went blank. An expression of utmost disgust distorted her features before she turned up her nose and stalked past you without another glance.

"Tris--"

"Save it."

Great. Now you'd have to find time to not only fill her in on what Eric was up to but also to convince her that you jumping into bed with her least favourite person in all of Dauntless wasn't messing with your mind if you had any hope of teaming up with her. And you'd need her support.

During your embarrassing walk of shame, you'd kept your head down, allowing your tangled hair to obscure your face as much as possible while making sure to take paths that saw less traffic even if it meant it took a little longer to get home.

Luckily, most of your peers were already well into their cups. Anticipation hung heavy in the air coupled with a sort of restlessness and a thirst for violence that was uniquely Dauntless. After you'd made yourself presentable, you'd braved the cafeteria since you knew you needed the fuel for later before retreating back to the quiet of your apartment where you went through stretching exercises in the hopes of loosening your aching muscles. You weren't having much luck. Everything hurt as if you'd been pummelled by a mob. Slowly but surely, panic began to set in, making you jittery and nervous.

How were you going to get through that damned fight and emerge victorious when you had trouble moving faster than at a snail's pace?

Applying pain-relief gel lessened your stiffness somewhat but it still hurt every time you pivoted or aimed to strike which brought you back to the conversation you'd had with Eric about your reaction time suffering due to being sore which reminded you of the painkillers he'd given you. If you didn't feel a vast improvement in a couple of hours after massaging more pain-relief gel into your thighs and arms, you'd take them as well. This fight was too important to risk being impaired by your uncooperative body.

**~~~**

The seconds seemed to stretch on indefinitely and you still had a little more than one hour to go. You should make your way to the gym soon and yet you still felt like you'd aged twenty years in the last two days, judging by how even the most careful of movements sent pain through your nervous system. Resignedly, you washed down the two pills with water. One last look in the mirror to make sure you hadn't put on your shirt inside out or something ridiculous like that and you were out the door.

Every single corridor of Dauntless seemed to be crowded beyond belief. Somehow it felt as though your Faction's population had tripled all of a sudden what with everyone but the most essential personnel having the day off in order to witness the fight and celebrate their new leader. You wondered if Adam was as overwhelmed by the spectacle and the encroaching nerves as you were. Contrary to last night, though, there were noticeably less people who clapped you on the shoulder or roared good luck at you. Instead, you felt like huddled groups of black-clad people were dissecting you with their eyes as their whispers made you tense up.

Irrationally, you suddenly found yourself wishing Eric were next to you despite you being pretty certain that this was his fault. He'd silence them with one look if they even dared show any hint of disrespect in the first place.

Entering the biggest gym of the compound with lots of space for the spectators where the fight would take place that was similar in style to the leaders' training room, you spied the bane of your existence next to the ring in conversation with Logan. A sweep across the rapidly filling room as you approached the two men showed your opponent to be nowhere in sight. Excitement began to thrum through you as the room filled. The fact that all of your scheming would be over in a few hours was a little surreal since it had consumed your thoughts entirely for what felt like ages.

Logan spied you first over Eric's shoulder. He shot you a big grin as you joined them and clapped you on the shoulder, jostling you in the process.

"You ready, champ?"

"Well, it's too late for second thoughts now in any case," you quipped, cutting your eyes at Eric who studied you with his usual inscrutability.

"Damn right! We're rooting for you!"

"You are?" you asked, dubiously, raising your eyebrows.

"Duh," Logan said.

"Your nominee didn't make it this far?"

"Nope."

"Owen, huh?"

"Yup. So now I'm cheering for your since your Eric's which is, like, the next best thing."

"Very good choice!" You grinned smugly at the man in question, daring him to contradict his fellow leader.

"Make sure not to embarrass me."

"Gosh," you replied, fanning yourself dramatically, "you're such a sweet talker."

Logan barked a laugh at your fluttering eyelashes and Eric's narrowed eyes before departing towards Clay who'd just entered the gym. Once you were alone, Eric stepped closer, cocking his head at you and holding out his hand.

"The flash drives. Now."

Rolling your eyes, you handed them over, praying he wouldn't find time to have a look at their content and realise that they were empty.

"I took your knife."

Pocketing the flash drives, he smirked slightly and asked, "You take the painkillers?"

"Yup. I'm feeling better already. Thanks."

A curt nod was all you got before he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there.

The gym had gotten packed while you'd talked to Eric. It sounded like a busy bee hive in here with no individual voices being discernible save for an especially loud holler or laugh every now and then as the groups of people horsed around, playfully shoving or hugging each other. Out of your peripheral, you noticed someone coming nearer and when you turned your head you found yourself facing Adam. His shaved head glinted under the blue halogen lights while his dark eyes were trained on you. You swallowed. He looked even more muscular to you now than he'd done two days ago though that was most likely just your nerves talking. He stopped in front of you, close enough to talk but leaving a noticeable distance, and nodded.

"Alright?" he said quietly.

"Yeah. Can't wait to get this over with, though."

The corners of his lips quirked upwards in a tiny smile that you answered with one of your own. "I hear ya."

He seemed… nice. You hadn't expected to like the guy you'd try your best to beat but there was a steadiness to his gaze that calmed you. He'd make a good leader, you thought suddenly. If you hadn't gotten yourself into this mess and weren't so determined to make Eric pay somehow for Max's murder, you might have rooted for Adam to win.

"When this is over," he said, "whichever way it ends, I'd like to get to know you, I think."

You blinked dumbly at him.

"How is it that guys always think with their cocks first?"

"Don't know," he said, shrugging good-naturedly. "You game?" 

"Are you seriously asking me out?"

"Yeah."

A mirthful snort escaped you. "Sure, we can bandage the wounds we've inflicted on each other. That'll really make us bond. Perfect activity for a first date."

It was meant as a joke but he flashed you a quick grin.

"Deal."

You opened your mouth to clear things up when a heavy hand landed on the nape of your neck.

"I better not have caught you two fixing the fight," Eric said, evidently having caught the end of your conversation.

Adam snapped to attention while you fought an eye roll though you also instinctively straightened up.

"Don't be ridiculous," you murmured, shifting to look back up at him over your shoulder.

Prompting Adam to get in the ring by jutting his chin towards it, you made to follow but were halted by Eric's heavy grip.

"What?"

"Ready?"

You smiled sweetly at him. "Careful, boss, or I'll start thinking you actually care."

Maybe it was just your imagination or the way the stark light washed out the colours but you could have sworn that his eyes darkened at the moniker before he leant down until his mouth brushed your ear.

"Remember: try to catch him off guard and attack first."

"Relax. I got this."

After he'd released you, you took a deep breath and followed Adam. It was like being on a stage what with all eyes snapping towards the two of you within seconds. Rotating your shoulders and shaking out your legs, you were pleased to discover that you felt as nimble and pain-free as you'd done before Eric had began to put you through the ringer. Everything - from the crowd's cheering and the warmth emanating from this many bodies being crammed into one room to the scent of sweat and booze in the air - felt more intense. Then you made eye contact with Eric who'd been joined by Logan, Clay and Tris at the side of the ring and you briefly got lost. Raising your chin, you lifted a challenging eyebrow and smirked, causing a peculiar glint to appear in those silver eyes that turned you on and made you uneasy in equal parts. 

Tearing your gaze away from him, you zeroed in on Adam, taking in the bulging muscles and perspiration that was starting to make his bald head glisten. Once you'd focused on your opponent, everything else seemed to become muted. Your breath - that had gotten faster due to the thrill of the situation - and your pounding heart were loud in your ears.

Since this was no inconsequential sparring session, you were both wearing trainers instead of being barefoot. Thankfully, like you, Adam hadn't been cruel enough to choose heavy boots which would have made getting kicked hurt so much more. As you took stock of his posture and centre of gravity, you were dimly aware that Logan was playing commentator, fanning the crowd's excitement.

"Everything goes, except cheating," he boomed. "And now, the moment we've all been waiting for… let's see who's got the skill and bravery to become a leader of Dauntless!"

The answering roar was deafening, making goosebumps erupt on your bare arms. You swallowed thickly. This was it.

"Assume fighting position."

Eric's raised voice cut through the pandemonium like a sword, causing a tense hush to fall as everyone seemed to hold their breath. Adam and you raised your fists and bent your knees, cataloguing each others posture as you looked for obvious weak spots.

In the quiet that was fraught with excitement and anticipation, Eric didn't even have to shout.

"Begin," he commanded and you started to circle each other.

You'd expected to be shaky from adrenaline caused by the gravity of the moment but a deadly calm had enveloped you; akin to what standing in the eye of the storm must feel like. Pains and aches had disappeared and you felt energised and beyond ready.

Eric's trick was at the forefront of your mind and after taking a steadying breath, you made sure to disengage your gaze from Adam's rather abruptly, staring wide-eyed over his shoulder. Just like predicted, he chanced a quick look which gave you the opening you needed. You jumped towards him, punching his face and stomach in quick succession, which made his head snap sideways first and caused him to double over while he was still reeling from the attack. Eric telling you to go for the groin, eyes, kneecaps or throat echoed through your mind so you brought your knee up and kicked Adam where it hurt. Despite his cry of pain, he possessed enough presence of mind to attempt a counter hit which you barely managed to evade by rotating to the side and slipping out of reach.

"This is how it's gonna be, huh?" Adam croaked, sounding winded - probably due to residual pain from getting hit in the balls - once you were back to circling. "Didn't expect you to fight dirty."

You gave him an imperceptible shrug without a hint of remorse, not breaking your concentration.

"I intend to win."

You  _ had _ to win.

He barked a humourless laugh. "Yeah, I got that."

In order not to be put on the defensive, you launched your next attack, feinting a left hook and ducking when he made to counter before dropping into a crouch to sweep his feet out from under him. You'd intended to knock him out once he was on the floor but Adam used the momentum to execute a backwards roll, getting to his feet much faster than you'd anticipated and he didn't lose any time to come at you. Though you blocked his first hit, the second connected with your ribs, making you grunt before he threw a hook at you that caught you under the jaw, jerking your head back, overextending your neck in the process. A white-hot flash of pain searing your spine had you retreating as quickly as possible as you tried to shake it off.

Fearing that you'd sprained something or pinched a nerve, you checked whether or not you were compromised in your movements but, to your surprise, it ebbed away quickly and your focus sharpened even more, creating a sort of tunnel vision. You'd been correct in assuming that he'd pack quite the punch. Though you were quicker on your feet, you needed to get your hits in and back off instantly because if he landed a few more attacks like these, he'd knock you out cold.

With a strategy in mind, you set about wearing him down bit by bit. Though he caught on quickly and did his best to foil your plan, you discovered that Adam tended to drop his guard when throwing a punch and you exploited that every chance you got, connecting with his face more than once but you never got a clear shot at his throat or his eyes. Because you lacked muscle mass, your attacks weren't nearly as effective as you would have liked. But though Adam was good, you'd gotten acclimated to dealing with Eric's skill level and Adam was no match for him. It gave you hope that you might be able to see this through.

"And here I'd gotten the impression Eric just nominated you for your pretty face," he snarled but there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes.

Ignoring his remark, you shot forward and ducked underneath his fist, popping up within his personal space to land a solid punch to his throat. You'd taken him off guard but you had no time to rejoice because next thing you knew his hands were around your throat. Panic suffused your body when he squeezed, clearly planning to choke you out, but - somehow - you remained clear-headed. Allowing yourself to go limp in his hold forced him to adjust his stance and you used that brief moment to kick out at his kneecap which made his leg fold under him. Then you threw up your arms, catching his wrists with your forearms to break his hold before you jumped back in an attempt to get out of his range.

Judging by the look he threw you before he charged at you, you'd succeeded in properly riling him up. It would make him more unpredictable and dangerous, you knew, but people also tended to make mistakes when they lost their cool and you needed him to be sloppy. You jumped aside, pivoting on your heel to not lose sight of your opponent, and got hit square on the mouth before you'd regained your footing. As you prepared to retaliate, you felt a trickle of something warm and wet snake down your chin. You ran your tongue over your smarting lip and tasted copper. 

He'd drawn first blood and an answering cheer went through the crowd.

Seeing red, you surged forward and blindly swung at him, hitting his nose with a satisfying crunch that had him breaking posture to cradle his face which made the room erupt into applause but you barely had time to bask in their approval because you realised that was the opportunity you'd been waiting for. While he was incapacitated, you advanced once more, aiming a high kick at his stomach that he couldn't see coming. It drove the air from his lungs and he sank to one knee due to being unbalanced. With a wildly beating heart, you drew nearer, hoping to land another punch to his head that would knock him out long enough for the fight to be declared over.

Adam appeared to be unable to regain his breath, looking - for all intents and purposes - to be down for the count but when you prepared to strike, he lunged and pummelled you, drawing a shriek from you as you found yourself flat on your back with a wall of muscle weighing you down. It was as effective as a sucker punch for making you feel as though your lung had just collapsed. Flailing your legs on instinct in an attempt to throw him off, you managed to create enough space to bring your knee up into his side where you estimated his liver must be. The howl that followed told you that you'd succeeded. Still trapped underneath him, you rolled sideways when he automatically brought his hand to his side, trying to lessen the pain, and jammed your elbow into his solar plexus before scuttling out from under him.

A sharp yank on your hair followed by a blinding instant of pain had you falling backwards. You'd braided it tightly and had bobby pinned it as close to the nape of your neck as possible but it must've loosened during the fight, giving Adam enough room to thread his fingers through. With his hand still fisting your hair, he used his other to punch you in the face and your only saving grace was that you'd managed to turn your head so that he caught your cheekbone - the impact made it feel as though he'd pulverised it - rather than giving you a matching broken nose.

You needed to end this. Now.

Copying his move of doing a backwards roll shook off his hold and brought you face to face with him as you knelt on the floor. You would have liked to get back on your feet because it gave you more range and opportunity to retreat but you were running out of time if your rapidly swelling eye was any indication. At the moment, adrenaline reduced your injuries to a distant throbbing but that wouldn't last forever.

Fuelled by pure desperation, you threw yourself at him in a reversal of his attack. He fought you, landing hits to your ribs and chin that threatened to unseat you but you persevered, somehow ending up on your knees behind him after he'd attempted to throw you over his shoulder. You clamped your arms around his neck and squeezed as he struggled, planning on choking him into unconsciousness. He tried to grab you but your smaller stature meant he'd have to dislocate his shoulder if he wanted to get a good grip on you. Your heart was racing as a sliver of euphoria brought on by anticipation coursed through your bloodstream. Almost, you thought, you almost had him. It would only take a few seconds for him to lose consciousness if you were executing the blood choke correctly since you had no intention of inflicting serious damage by depriving his brain of oxygen.

Adam was experienced enough to know what you were trying to do and since the only body part he could comfortably reach were your hands and arms, he gripped your fingers on either side of his throat and bent them backwards, forcing you to let go lest he'd break them. Immediately afterwards, he quickly turned at the waist and threw a jab at your throat which sent you reeling, doubling over from the force of the impact. While you were distracted, he grabbed you by the neck and yanked your head downwards. It was intended to end in having your forehead slam into the ground but your kneeling position prevented that, instead you hit your knees, which was painful but, luckily, didn't result in a knockout. It did, however, give him the upper hand and you were sure he'd attempt to return the favour of being choked any second. You couldn't let that happen.

So, once again, you aimed at where it hurt most, letting him push you forward before lifting your shoulder to put some force behind the punch and hitting him straight in the groin which caused him to let go of you. You suffered a dizzy spell from how fast you'd shot to your feet but didn't allow yourself to lose momentum while it passed and kicked Adam in the side of the head, sending him sprawling at your feet but he managed to kick the outside of your knee which buckled under you and the awful popping noise followed by intense nausea clued you in that he'd just dislocated your kneecap. There was no way you'd be able to get up after this but Adam was dry heaving next to you, equally incapacitated.

Both of you were down, groaning in pain and currently unable to launch another attack.

You were sweat-soaked from the fight but a new wave of nausea and blinding pain emanating from your leg made you break out in cold sweat, doubtlessly making your face drain of colour as you tried to breathe through it. As if through a haze, you noticed the crowd's murmur as they waited for either one of you to officially finish the other or tap out.

Bracing yourself on your hands, you pulled your uninjured leg under you and hoisted yourself to your feet while making sure to keep your weight off the mangled one. It left you dangerously unsteady and you felt like you were seconds away from fainting, judging by the dark spots dotting your vision. You had difficulty drawing breaths because your ribs hurt like a motherfucker and every little movement alerted you to other injuries. Adam was still hunched over - not unconscious - but apparently not yet able to get back up. You had no idea how either one of you could possibly manage to put a definitive end to this.

Eric vaulted over the ropes that cordoned off the boxing ring. Taking one look at your opponent who wasn't even pretending to be fine, he stalked over to you and gripped your wrist before he yanked up your arm. The action not only almost sent you crashing but also jostled you in such a way that tears sprang to your eyes from what must surely be a cracked rib. You were seeing proverbial stars, the edges of your vision darkening precariously while you tilted as you lost your sense of which way was up and down for a second. The roaring in your ears of your frantically beating heart combined with the crowd's noise made you almost miss Eric's declaration of you having won.

When Eric let your arm drop and motioned for you to get out of the ring as he put his hand around your waist to act as a crutch, you unwittingly took a step forward in your dazed state, putting weight on your dislocated knee which instantly made bile rise in the back of your throat and caused you to sag. Only his quick reflexes saved you from landing on your face. Through the disorientation, you found yourself thinking how surprising it was that he hadn't just let you faceplant in front of all of Dauntless.

Everything that came after the fight was a bit of a blur. You barely registered the crowd's reaction, too busy trying to hop towards the ropes with Eric's aide while medical staff rushed past you to check on Adam. Eric had to lift you off the raised platform that the boxing ring sat on and you were awfully close to vomiting all over Logan who'd reached out to steady you while Eric jumped down beside him.

"--to the infirmary," you heard Eric say but you had no idea whether he was talking to you or to Logan.

"She looks ready to keel over," Logan observed and with a long-suffering sigh that made his warm breath graze your temple, Eric lifted you up bridal style.

As he carried you out of the gym, you rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.

"Don't fall asleep, princess," he muttered. "You probably have a concussion."

"Awww, look at you, sounding all concerned," you cooed, regaining some of your wits thanks to him holding you as still as possible to not aggravate your injuries which lessened the pain quite a bit. For now at least.

"D'you know if Adam's okay?"

"Why do you care? You won. That's all that matters isn't it?"

A grin stretched your lips. He was right, you had won. Against all odds, you'd fucking won. Your mouth stung. Reaching up, you pressed your fingers to your lip and grimaced at the sight of your blood coating your digits. Smiling had reopened the cut. You probably looked a fright, you mused, but it didn't matter. You'd beaten Adam.

You were a leader of Dauntless now.

Entering the infirmary, Eric deposited you on the examination chair as a nurse approached and winced sympathetically when she laid eyes on you.

"Let's get you fixed up, huh?"

After examining your knee which had already begun to swell, she said, "The patella is dislocated."

You had to clench your teeth to stop yourself from whimpering when she braced and bandaged your knee and almost cried in relief when she was done. The sting of your wounds being disinfected barely registered after that. Giving you an ice pack, she told you to press it to your swollen eye. When she helped you roll up your damp shirt in order to get a look at your ribcage, you were surprised to see how red the left side of your torso was.

"This will bruise. We gotta get an MRI to see whether your ribs are broken."

"Doesn't it have to heal on its own anyway?" you asked. "Regardless of how severe it is?"

"Yes, but we'll wanna make sure everything else is alright internally."

"Fine. That all?"

She hummed. "All I need is a blood sample for the drug test and then you're free to go."

"Drug test?"

"Yes."

You blinked at her. "Drugs like painkillers?"

"No. Painkillers are fine. I'm talking about performance enhancing drugs."

"Performance Enhancing?"

"Yeah, you know, drugs like Fentanyl that increase energy, stamina or reduce your reaction time and decrease fatigue. It's just to make sure participants didn't cheat their way to leadership."

As you listened to her, a creeping sense of dread settled like lead in your stomach. Despite feeling pain from the injuries you'd sustained, it was kind of muted - as if you were wrapped in cotton candy - and the soreness that had made it almost impossible to fight Eric yesterday and had only gotten worse over night had been nonexistent since before you'd gotten in the ring today. And hadn't you felt an unusual sense of focus while fighting Adam?

The nurse put a pressure cuff around your arm in preparation for drawing blood. Swallowing thickly, you flicked your eyes up at Eric who was leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, smirking diabolically as alarm bells started to ring in your mind. You locked eyes with him and almost recoiled at his burning gaze. There was a savage glint darkening his expression and the sheer amount of cold fury that was directed at you raised goosebumps all over your body. Whatever companionship or intimacy had developed between the two of you during the last couple of days was completely wiped away; as if it had never been there in the first place.

Those pills…

He'd drugged you.

The realisation sent a hot flash of rage through you before every bit of heat seemed to abruptly leave your body, making your fingertips tingle with how cold they'd suddenly gotten. A numbness was spreading through you as you tried and failed to come up with a way to prevent this from happening while the nurse filled a syringe with your blood. The results would disqualify you for sure and the fallout would ruin you. Best case scenario, you'd only have to deal with the disgrace of having committed an act of cowardice in a fight for the honour of leading this Faction of warriors and worst case… they might shun you and force you to become Factionless.

Once she'd finished and had put your sample into a machine behind her, Eric told her to go tend to Adam without breaking eye contact with you.

"But--"

"Leave," he ordered. "I'll wait for the drug test to finish."

She opened her mouth as if to argue but one raised eyebrow from Eric made her reconsider and leave the room at once.

Your heart lurched and the numbness turned into a hollow feeling that momentarily robbed you of speech.

"Did you really think you were a match for me?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"What the fuck did you make me take?" you whispered hoarsely.

"Make you? You decided to take those pills all by yourself."

"Under false pretences! You told me they were to treat sore muscles!"

He clicked his tongue and shook his head at you like a disappointed teacher, chastising a student for underperforming.

"Oh no, princess, I told you they were for treating pain and they did help with that, didn't they?"

"Eric," you growled warningly as tears of pure anger shot into your eyes, threatening to blind you.

Ignoring you for the time being, he took out the flash drives and stepped on them, crushing them beneath his boots before pushing off the doorframe to pick up the memory chips that were now revealed. You watched him stride towards the cabinet and take out a pair of scissors which he then used to cut them into pieces before throwing them into the trash. He came sauntering towards you, bracing himself on your chair by putting his hands on either side of your thighs before he leant in until you were nose to nose. Your hands balled into fists, fighting the urge to throw a punch at his stupid face.

"You're done for," he whispered. "Those results will prove you've cheated and I will personally make sure you're thrown out of Dauntless."

A lone tear slid down your cheek as you began to tremble, unable to cope with all your plans unravelling right in front of you.

"Unless…"

You closed your eyes, causing more tears to fall.

"What do you want?"

"I own you now. You will do as I say when I say." 

When you didn't reply, he grabbed your jaw, forcing your chin up. "Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you."

You circled his wrist in a vain attempt to make him let go and pursed your lips in defiance as you glared at him.

"You better not have any more copies. If you even think about double-crossing me or becoming a nuisance in council meetings, I will end you. Permanently. Understood?"

You managed a small nod.

"That's my girl," he purred, pressing a quick, bruising kiss to your lips. "Congratulations on joining leadership, princess."

He released you abruptly before swapping your test results with what you assumed was a forgery and letting the vial containing your blood drop to the floor where it smashed.

"Tell the nurse I dropped it and claim to feel light-headed. You need to stall for four days before you let her take another sample if she insists on having it on file or you'll get busted."

And with that he walked out the door, pocketing your real test results.

A choked sob escaped you as the gravity of what had just happened sank in and despair settled in, weighing you down. Eric held all the cards now. Hiding your face in your hands, you allowed yourself to weep.

* * *

**"Oh! What A Tangled Web We Weave When First We Practice To Deceive"**

**(William Shakespeare)**

* * *

**\- END OF PART ONE -**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I searched for banned substances that are used in doping, looking for something that would relieve pain and possibly enhance alertness. On a list of such drugs, I came across Kratom which seemed to fit this fic's purpose nicely:   
> [• Effects are unique in that stimulation occurs at low doses and opioid-like depressant and euphoric effects occur at higher doses  
>  • Common uses include treatment of pain; to help prevent withdrawal from opiates (such as prescription narcotics or heroin) and for mild stimulation  
>  • Stimulant effect was used by workers in Southeast Asia to increase energy, stamina and limit fatigue  
>  • Time to peak concentration in animal studies is reported to be 1.26 hours, and elimination half-life is 3.85 hours  
>  • Effects are dose-dependent and occur rapidly, reportedly beginning within 10 minutes after consumption, lasting from one to five hours  
>  • Stimulant effects manifest as increased alertness, boosted physical energy, talkativeness and a more social behavior](https://www.drugs.com/illicit/kratom.html)
> 
> [• Kratom is not listed as a narcotic and hence there is no law against its sale and consumption. [...] The most common types of Kratom drug tests are blood and urine; a blood test can detect Kratom in a few hours after taking the substance up to four days. Some people may test positive even after four days but it is difficult to find traces after five days. Kratom does not have traces in the blood up to a week or longer.](https://buykratomcbdoil.com/kratom/kratom-drug-test/)


	12. Aftermath (Interlude)

A little over a week had passed since you'd won the fight and had lost everything else. You'd hardly seen Eric since you'd been busy shadowing Logan to learn what your new duties entailed. In two weeks you'd switch to Clay. You were already dreading having to spend every day shadowing Eric. He'd make sure to torture you every step of the way, no doubt. It was probably for the best that you'd had the opportunity to get some perspective; you wouldn't have known what to say to him right now anyway.

And the people you did want to explain yourself to - Tori and Four - hadn't wanted to talk to you. Not that you blamed them. It wasn't difficult to imagine what picture they'd been presented with: you eagerly falling into Eric's bed and him declaring you the winner even though neither Adam nor you had managed to actually knock each other out. It was in the council's power to name a winner if the fight ended inconclusively but that was usually reserved for instances where both combatants were unconscious by the end of the fight. It came as no surprise that there had been rumours about you having fucked your way to being nominated and Eric had made sure to substantiate that impression by seemingly jumping at the chance to fix the outcome of the fight in your favour.

You hadn't yet figured out how to proceed from here. Eric was dangerous and you knew  stopping his plans was of the utmost importance but you were in no position to do so. Tris wouldn't listen long enough to hear the full story and though you knew she would continue trying to oppose Eric, she was effectively neutered because everyone else, including you, was set to do his bidding.

And now your first council meeting was upon you for the purpose of determining who'd be the public face and voice of Dauntless in a predetermined vote you'd give anything not to take part in.

"C'mon, my little invalid," Logan said, waiting for you to exit the elevator before him since you were still on crutches thanks to your knee.

Despite yourself, you laughed. "Shut up."

"Move that sweet little arse or we'll be late and Eric will have our heads."

Hanging out with Logan was a riot and a half and though you knew that he was friends with Eric which meant you should stay wary, he was way too fun and good-natured for you to dislike him.

"God, I'm so over these stupid crutches," you whined.

"Chin up, honey. You'll be rid of them soon enough and then we can finally welcome you with some proper hazing."

"Great, I can hardly wait."

You fell silent when you entered the conference room, zeroing in on Eric in an instant. Logan and you were the last ones to arrive and judging by Tris' sour expression, she was dreading this as much as you were.

"Thanks for making time for us in your busy schedule," Eric drawled.

"Don't mention it, mate," Logan quipped, "it's our pleasure."

Wordlessly, you sat down next to Logan, across from Eric, and fought the urge to fidget under his unrelenting stare. You'd almost forgotten how oppressive it was to have his undivided attention.

"Now that we're all finally here," Eric said, leaning back in his chair, "let's make this quick, shall we?"

Murmurs of assent and nods followed his words.

"Dauntless needs a spokesperson to act as a representative when dealing with the other Factions. Someone who'll also take the lead in internal matters so we get shit done instead of arguing about it. Max used to be ranked highest in our hierarchy and we're here to vote who'll take his place. Naturally, voting for yourself isn't allowed. When I call out a name, please raise your hand for the person you think is best suited to take on that responsibility."

He went through the motions of calling out all of your names. Eric voted for Logan while Tris and you didn't get any votes. Tris was the only one who raised her hand when Clay's name got called. In your periphery, you noticed her shooting daggers at you with her eyes the entire time but you were ignoring her since your eyes were still locked on Eric's. 

When Eric said his own name, Clay's and Logan's hands shot up immediately, followed by you lifting yours after he cocked his head at you, daring you to not vote for him. It sealed the deal. The whole thing was weirdly underwhelming. No one would have guessed that you'd essentially just handed Dauntless over to him on a silver platter. A shiver went through you at the undisguised triumph brightening Eric's eyes. You felt like crying. This was the final nail in the coffin of all your plans.

"Anything else we need to discuss?" Eric asked.

Logan checked his watch. "The delegation from Erudite is gonna be here soon. You want us to greet them or are you handling it alone?"

"I'll show them around but remember we're all having dinner with them later. I'll fill you in on their proposals then."

"Great."

As everyone got up, Logan told you to finish some paperwork while he'd deal with Ben regarding some issue in the Control Room. The others had already left but you lagged behind, hobbling towards the elevator on your crutches. You could do paperwork on your tablet from the comforts of your new flat so you were headed towards the residential level.

Sighing in exasperation when the display on the elevator showed that the damn thing was still heading down towards the Pit, you decided to bite the bullet and take the stairs down since it was only one floor. The staircase was made up of 13 levels of concrete which meant it was always icy, regardless of outside temperatures, and it echoed like crazy in there. The orange safety lamps cast a sickly glow on everything as you struggled downwards, breathing hard from the exertion which painted puffs of white clouds in the frigid air. 

From above you, voices filtered down. Dauntless' public, glass-encased entrance was the only thing above level 12 and you recognised Eric's deep baritone as footsteps descended the staircase towards you. They must have decided that waiting for the elevator was a waste of time since Eric was probably leading them to his office anyway.

"Congratulations on seizing control of Dauntless," said a cool, female voice that sounded eerily familiar.

You gritted your teeth in response to her statement. Other Factions shouldn't be aware of the fact that he now held the most power since they knew Dauntless had a council of five leaders.

"Took long enough," Eric said, "but we're all set now."

"Excellent. I've brought you samples of the improved serum so you may see for yourself how it works."

"How soon can you mass produce it?"

"Immediately."

Jeanine Matthews. That's who that clipped voice belonged to. You'd listened to her speeches a million times.

"So we'll be ready for our  _ coup de main _ as soon as I sign off on it?”

What's a  _ coup de main,  _ you wondered. Sounded like a military term.

"Precisely."

"Good. There's been a surge in activity. It's about time we deal with this once and for all."

Activity? Was Eric talking about  _ Divergent activity _ ?

Jeanine Matthews must have been the one he'd been talking to during that phone call you'd overheard.

Their voices had gotten louder during their conversation as they were faster on their feet and you'd subconsciously slowed down to listen. Now you realised that you'd be in their line of sight any minute and you really didn't want to let Eric know you'd been eavesdropping on him. Again. Hurrying up, you made it to your floor's exit just in time to duck beneath the doorframe.

"How's Beatrice Prior?" 

"Your favourite," Eric said curtly, "continues to be a pain in my ass."

Favourite… this Beatrice person must be the bloodhound you recalled him mentioning. The person who'd been inquiring after Max.

"Is that jealousy I hear?"

"No. All I'm saying is that you're wasting your time. She'll never be persuaded to join us."

"That's a shame. She's got such potential. We should use that."

The only person you could think of that regularly attempted to foil Eric's plans aside from yourself was Tris.

"We will."

"Oh?"

"We need someone to test--"

You heard a door opening and then their conversation was abruptly cut off as it closed behind them.

What the hell was Eric up to? And why did it sound like he was colluding with the leader of another Faction?

You had a bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [coup de main = An offensive operation that capitalizes on surprise and simultaneous execution of supporting operations to achieve success in one swift stroke](https://www.thefreedictionary.com/coup+de+main)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> **FYI: Please refrain from asking when Part 2 will be done.** I'm a perfectionist and dislike posting chapter by chapter so you'll get Part 2 in one upload but it'll take months; I'd be surprised if it happens within the next calendar year since I'm eager to devote my time to a few other fandoms after focusing on Eric for so long. That doesn't mean I'm not working on it regularly, though, and getting demands for more content in my inbox isn't gonna speed up the process.
> 
> I greatly enjoy talking to readers and always reply (unless you send flames or unsolicited advice, those I will simply ignore) but the fic is completely outlined and **I'm not looking for a muse. I write for myself first and foremost** so I'm in no need of inspiration regarding the plot, therefore, telling me what you want to see in Part 2 is pointless. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to push your ideas on me. Thanks a lot!


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